Phoenix
by losing
Summary: She was sold to the gentle Prince Trunks and his ruthless father King Vegeta. Will Phoenix survive the reign of the Saiyans?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So, this story may seem a bit similar to some of you. It was started and once belonged to **phoenixvaliant**. She gave it to me because she became too busy to continue it. (She also forgot the email she used for the account.) I'm really excited to have been given this opportunity and hope I can make this story something great.

www.(dot)mibba(dot)com/134597/ (The link to her Mibba account if you want to message her to make sure my claims are true.)

Below is the first and only chapter she wrote. I already have the second well under way and will have it posted within the next few days. Any questions, comments, concerns, don't be afraid to let me know.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball, Dragon Ball Z, or Dragonball GT or any related characters.

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><p>Entry Number 1<p>

My name is Phoenix Valiant. At least, that's what my stage name was. Wait, not stage like poles and heels. Well, there were heels, but thick leather ones, not skimpy stilettos. I mean, I was fully clothed at all times!

Delete! Delete!

...Stupid voice journals. Pick up every word, can't delete. Let me start over.

My real name is Avelyn. I was born for a purpose, I'm sure. Though I'm not entirely sure _this,_ meaning where I am now in a concubine training academy, was it. Yeah, I didn't think it was a justifiable place of real existence either. But I'm most definitely in one. Young girls from all over the known universes are brought here to be taught in the ways of pleasing their future masters. After all, concubines to royalty and other high-ranking officials are just below the status of a wife. At least, that's what we were told. In truth, me and all the other girls here are being primped and trained to be well-educated whores.

I was born and left on a street. A kind woman by the name of Victoria found me and took me to her home. I was raised amongst people who were widely known as carneys or sideshow freaks seeing as how my adopted mother, or Auntie as I called her, was their cook and nurse. I quickly learned that I had to earn my stay at the carnival in that rundown city on my home planet of Lorine. I was not given a second chance just to be a child: I had to work. So, I was trained to become a sword and fire swallower, explaining my stage name.

Life was good with the carnival. It was, for the most part, ignored by the Saiyans who had taken over control after the defeat of Frieza. We were untouched by the war currently being waged with Cooler. Though the majority of the planet's inhabitants were picked up as slaves: Mostly forced whores to keep the Saiyan armies happy; after all, humanoid-inhabited planets such as Lorine where difficult to come by. But who would want to fuck a bunch of freaks, right?

I was surrounded by good people. Cutthroat, thieving people, but they were loyal. There was an unspoken law that you never crossed one of the other carneys. We looked out for each other and, once you earned your keep, it was yours. I was the lowest in the rankings, being the newest and most normal looking member. Unlike the majority of the bunch with extra appendages(or lack thereof), twisted features, or other oddities, I was a normal five foot seven red-head with big green eyes and a wonder of a body.

Modest, aren't I?

So, it was no surprise that one night after a show I was picked up by a couple of slave traders, right? And King Vegeta's and Prince Trunks's preferences for brightly-colored toys landed me here was also no surprise, correct? Well, Prince Trunks's preference at least. Rumor has it that the ole king hadn't taken another plaything since his blue-toned beauty from Earth birthed him a strong Halfling son. If the boy had been a weakling, no doubt he and his mother would've been axed as unfortunate events. But no, the prince was indeed quite strong and, so I've heard, quite handsome. I was told he was who you wanted to be sold to. He was gentle to his women, the other girls whispered. And Saiyans weren't famous for being kind. They were known throughout the galaxy as savages and lived up to that reputation.

So I'm being trained to be his personal plaything. If I were in fact sold to royal slavery that would be my future. If not, I'd be presented to members of the royal court and then guard and then army and then, if still not sold, pretty much given away to some whorehouse on an unnamed planet.

What a life.

End Entry Number 1.

Avelyn sighed and closed the metal cover on her black market, smuggled purchase. She made sure the lock was secure on the high tech journal and stuffed it under all the things in the trunk at the base of her bed. She jumped when she heard a knock at her door and, after rearranging her thin silk robe over her even thinner silk nightgown, opened the door with slightly trembling hands. Who could be calling on her at this hour? She'd been there not two months but already knew that there was no visiting after hours.

"Avelyn!" exclaimed a dark-haired girl in a hushed tone as she rushed into the red-head's room. Avelyn sighed and shut the door.

"What do you want, Ishane?" she asked the girl who was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet excitedly. Since day one, Ishane had been by her side at this hellish place. They were both continuously in trouble for speaking out or acting wildly, but what else could be expected from two girls from Lorine? It was a rather wild planet in itself.

"Did you hear?"

Avelyn was positive that if the girl didn't calm down, she was going to suffer from some sort of fit. Ishane took the other girl's silence as a negative and continued.

"They're coming in a week!"

Avelyn drew a blank. "Who are?"

"Who? Ave, who? Really? Who else? The king and prince, of course!"

"What? Already? But we've only just arrived!" She was sure she'd have more time to plan an escape. This did not bode well.

"Orshie told me that Vegeta tired of looking at Trunks's old concubine and killed her. Seeing as how the prince's birthday is coming up, the king is letting him pick out a new one."

Ishane flounced over to Avelyn's spacious closet and was currently examining her clothes. Unlike Avelyn, she actually wanted to be auctioned off to the highest, and hopefully wealthiest, bidder. But she was used to this way of life. She was born in a red light district. It was all her life was. She saw the glam in being a whore to a royal, the money, the possessions, the cushiony lifestyle, and turned her back on the rather short life expectancy. It was a wonder to Avelyn how her friend was able to act so callously and frivolously. Though, she thought, she could understand. They were caught in a bad situation. Why not make the best of it?

"Ooh, can I borrow this?"

Ishane's excited shout brought Avelyn from her thoughts. She looked up to see the girl holding a skimpy yellow dress to her frame.

"Of course," was her reply.

Ishane's eyes lit up with more excitement, if that were possible. "You should wear this one when they arrive!" she exclaimed, holding out a tiny black slip of fabric that reached about the middle of Avelyn's thigh while wearing it. "It'll make your hair and eyes pop and your boobs will look phenomenal!"

Avelyn rolled her eyes and took the offered dress. "Thank you, Ishane. Now go to bed. You aren't supposed to be wandering around after hours."

She pushed the girl out the door and shut it in her face. After sliding the lock into place, she walked to her bed and sat on it heavily. She put her head in her hands and felt the tears begin to slip free.

One week. Her fate would be decided in a single week. There was no way out, no more time. This academy was actually a ship floating in space. Escape on such short notice was impossible. She would never make it back to Lorine, back to Aunite, back to her leather pants and boots... Her fate was to be a whore. Her best possible bet was to be the whore to a somewhat mysterious prince with a ruthless, murdering father.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** So, I lied. The original author had two chapters posted, not one. A big thanks to her for pointing that out to me. The first half of this chapter is hers, the second (Vegeta's P.O.V.) is where my writing begins. I'm trying to keep her style, but I apologize for anything that seems out of place writing-wise.

In other news, I already have a good portion of the next chapter written. Hopefully it'll be a speedy update. :)

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><p>Trunks lazily rolled out of bed and stood on shaky legs. He rubbed at his blue eyes as he made his way over to the bathroom that was connected to his room on the spaceship. He flipped on the bright light and winced as it reflected painfully off the pristine white that bathed everything in the small wash closet. He turned the water on in the shower and, after stripping out of his boxers, gratefully entered the hot jet of water. He stood under the showerhead, letting his violet hair cling to his forehead as his mind filled with thoughts.<p>

He didn't want a new concubine. They were always so much trouble. Not to mention the fact that he let them step all over him. Within a month those cunning bitches always managed to exploit his biggest weakness, extreme shyness to the opposite sex, and twist him to get whatever they wanted. Though feeling guilty during their eventual demise, Trunks was thankful his father's low tolerance for seeing the same things continuously usually ended the concubines' reigns.

And now he was rocketing through space with his father in their spaceship to a concubine academy to purchase him a new toy. He felt the bile rise in his throat and sighed heavily. He tried explaining to King Vegeta over and over again that he simply did not want a glorified whore to play with. The king, of course, had brushed off his complaints telling him that if he did not use the women, his sexual frustration would hinder his fighting prowess. Trunks always shut up when the conversation turned down that road. He wasn't about to be the one to admit to the king that his son was a twenty-three-year old virgin and the very thought of sex terrified him. It wasn't the actual act that scared him; it was the risk of creating a child. His life had not been easy by any stretch of the word and he refused to submit another being to his lifestyle.

He snorted at that thought; his lifestyle. Being in a war with the most feared being in the universe was certainly horrific on a kid growing up in the Saiyan Empire, much less the heir to the throne. After the defeat of his brother at the hands of Bardock, a low class warrior whose crew was murdered by the deceased tyrant, Cooler lashed back with a power no one would have guessed he had. Not long after Bardock's warning of Frieza's treachery and proceeding battle, Cooler rallied what forces would still follow him and attacked. The Saiyans were able to counter quickly, encouraged by Bardock's ascension to the legendary Super Saiyan during his battle with Frieza. Though they were now engaged in a vicious war, Trunks shuddered to think what would have happened to his people had they brushed Bardock's accusations aside.

And then there was the constant ridicule Trunks had to face being the product of an Earthling and not of full Saiyan blood. The only reason he was prince was because of the fact that Vegeta's Saiyan wife had been unable to bear him even a single child before she fell in battle some twenty or more years back. It was common Saiyan practice not to remarry and so that left Trunks as the only legitimate option.

He had a younger sister, Bra, who came from the same coupling he had, but she had no interest in politics at the age of sixteen. She was more like their mother, Bulma, and looked exactly like the blue-haired woman as well. She could fight; she just preferred not to put her pretty little face in danger. Trunks chuckled to himself as he climbed out of the shower and dried off. She certainly was a handful.

He was really the only option the Saiyan race had.

A loud banging on his bedroom door woke him from his thoughts. He rushed to his room and managed to slip on a pair of boxers before a blue-headed fury barged through the door.

"Bra!" he exclaimed, chastising his sister's lack of personal privacy.

"Oh, shut up," she responded haughtily. "You're keeping Father waiting."

Bra rolled her eyes as she sauntered across the room to examine herself in a full-length mirror hanging on the wall.

"Damn," he mumbled, digging through the piles of discarded clothing on the floor to find his black spandex shorts. Missing training sessions was a huge no-no in the king's rule book. Even the few minutes he was currently running late by were sure to earn him a regeneration tank-worthy beating.

"What do you want?" he asked his sister gruffly as he tugged on his shoes. He glanced at where she stood posing and pulling on her skin-tight clothing. He knew there was a motive to her lingering. Faintly, he noted how she resembled many of the royal court's concubines that roamed the palace halls of the left wing.

She sighed a long, heavy sigh as she pulled her thin fingers through her hair. "Oh, nothing..."

He felt his skin crawl at her airy tone. She wanted something, all right.

"Just," she continued, "if you get a new toy, get one I can play with as well."

He froze as she turned to him, a dangerous glint in her eyes. She saw his horrified expression and scoffed.

"Not like _that,_" she clarified, putting a downward inflection on the last word. "Get one I can dress up, talk to."

"You mean like your own, life-sized doll," he responded flatly. He pulled his laces tight and stood. That was classic Bra; manipulation to have some fun.

"Yeah," she said eagerly, not catching his disdainful tone or simply not caring, he wasn't sure which. "Finally, you get it!"

She followed him out of his small room on the ship. Normally, she would've been left on the planet but their father wasn't comfortable leaving her behind with all the unrest that had started between the Saiyan people. The vain girl was reluctant to leave her closets and jewels at first, but a promise from Vegeta to stop at Greydon Station, a huge shopping fortress, quickly changed her mind. So now Trunks was stuck with her on the month-long trip to and back from the academy.

"So, you'll do it, won't you?" she asked as they stopped at the steel doors of the training facility.

"Fine," he sighed, only agreeing to get her off his back. Vegeta would be angry enough at him for keeping him waiting this long. He didn't need and irate Saiyan princess making his life difficult as well.

"Yay!" Bra exclaimed, clapping her hands together as she jumped up and down in the hall. Trunks placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to stop the show from continuing. The guards standing in the hall were staring intently. He gave her a look and, scared at his sudden roughness, she took her leave. As soon as she was safely on her way back to her room, Trunks braced himself and turned back towards the door. Putting on a stoic expression, he entered the room to face his father.

Vegeta didn't consider himself an arrogant man in any sense of the word. He was proud, sure; proud of his people, proud of himself. Perhaps that's why it bothered him so much when Bardock was able to ascend so easily to claim what was to be _his_, Vegeta's, rightful legacy. In the brief moments alone he'd had with his father, the previous king, growing up under Frieza's rule as a young boy, Vegeta had been told continuously that he was destined to be the one to rise and lead his people as the legendary Super Saiyan warrior that had not been seen for a thousand years. _He_was the one who was supposed to ascend. It was foretold to be _his_ destiny, not the destiny of that third-class trash now hailed as a hero for taking down the old tyrant and liberating the Saiyan people.

He also supposed that, in some twisted way, he should be thankful to Bardock. Without the warrior or his equally inept son Kakarot, Vegeta mused that he himself might not have been able to ascend as well. Yes, he was now a warrior of legend. Thanks to the constant burning desire to be better than Bardock and the battle the now-king had shared with Kakarot on Earth.

Vegeta paused in his angry pacing in the spaceship's training room as he thought back on the battle. Nearly twenty-plus years ago, when his father had still been alive, Vegeta had traveled to the dismal mud ball planet of Earth with a warrior by the name of Raditz to retrieve Kakarot—Bardock's son and Raditz's younger brother who had been sent to the planet to purge it when he was only a few days old. It should have been no problem for the Saiyan infant but, when they arrived, they found the planet perfectly happy and intact.

In his anger at the traitor, Vegeta had flown off to challenge Kakarot who met him easily, calling himself Goku and claiming to be the Earth's protector. Just before they were about to engage in battle, Raditz stepped in and begged his then-prince to show the low-class warrior's baby brother a little mercy. Disgusted with his show of affection, Vegeta easily put Raditz down for the count. He always had been a weakling.

Then it was Kakarot's turn. Their battle was vicious. Vegeta hadn't had an opponent who could challenge him like that in quite some time but he was confident he would win in the end. After all, he was the prince of all Saiyans. Surely that meant he was ultimately stronger than those he ruled over. But Kakarot didn't consider himself to be under anyone's rule but his own. He was, in every aspect, a very different adversary than Vegeta had ever known.

Which may have been why he was defeated. Though, Vegeta strongly maintained, he would have won if the traitor's Halfling son and bald, pathetic friend hadn't stepped in. Yes, if the trio hadn't existed to thwart him, he would have been the undisputed victor. He was certain.

Instead, barely clinging to life, Vegeta had been allowed to live. The Earthlings had even taken him in and healed him. He would have gotten away a lot sooner if his pod hadn't been destroyed by the Halfling brat during his Oozaru transformation, but he was forced to submit to a blue-haired witch's demands until her scientist father built him a spaceship he and Raditz, who had also managed to prolong his pitiable life, could return home in.

Three years later, return he did. Vegeta came back with the witch who was now ripe with his first child, without Kakarot, and to find his father dead (murdered by assassins) and he the new king. He led his people to believe that the woman was simply a spoil of war, a concubine. In truth, he had fallen in love with her and she with him, but he would surely appear weak if that fact were known. Though their relationship wasn't exactly romantic, he felt a strong bond to the woman and couldn't bear to leave her on Earth, unprotected by him.

That bond was made all the stronger by the fact that the woman Bulma was carrying his child. His wife had died somewhere near four years before he traveled to Earth. She had been defeated in the war with Cooler and left Vegeta childless. It was an excepted Saiyan principle that marriage was for life, a contract not broken after death. It would've been sacrilegious to marry again—even if the purpose was to produce a pure-blooded heir. Though his people were still angry and restless over having a Halfling prince, it was the only option for Vegeta. He was not about to name some other Saiyan, one not of his direct blood, next in line for the throne. He wouldn't hear of it.

Speaking of his heir, the boy had just stepped through the door. Vegeta studied his son with a strange mixture of pride and disgust. His violet hair fell in straight lines around his face. His blue eyes appeared brave and determined, but held a hint of fear in them. At first glance, he was embarrassingly unthreatening. But, as Vegeta had discovered through their rigorous training, his son held an immeasurable amount of power. The only trick was coaxing to the surface of his unimpressive exterior.

"You're late, boy," he growled low in his throat.

Trunks gulped in apprehension. Vegeta lowered himself into an offensive position. It was going to take a lot of hard work and many beatings to transform his Halfling heir into a mighty Saiyan king.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Gosh, such speedy updating. Let's hope this pattern continues.

Oh! Big bundles of love and thanks to Chibisensei110787 and YellowHawkDawn for their reviews! 3

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><p>Avelyn didn't sleep at all that night. She was too worried, too panicked. Her mind had barely quit thinking, busy as it was with dreaming up schemes. There were all kinds; wild ones, hopeless ones, somewhat understandable ones. At least one of those plans had to be the right one, the one that would get her off that ship.<p>

She had been planning an escape from the beginning. From the moment the slave traders captured her in the slums of Lorine to her enrollment in the academy, the plot to run away had been lurking darkly in the back of her mind. Se could have easily snuck from her room and to the docking station at any time—she had done just that on many occasions. What kept her from stealing one of the many small spacecraft held in the station were the guards. They weren't the strongest of Saiyans, just weak enough to get stuck with the assignment of guarding a group of whores. But even so, they were strong enough to crush every bone in her body without a second thought.

It's not like she hadn't already tried to get past them. She had, in fact, attempted an escape once before. The botched plan had earned her a stay in the dreaded, filthy, cold, and all around unbearable lower barracks where she was given the task of scrubbing and polishing the guards' blood and dirt-encrusted armor. The difference in their strengths had been made obvious at that time as well when she had been flung _gently _against a wall, a toss that had forced her to spend an hour in a regeneration tank to recover from her many injuries. The headmistress had told her that she was lucky there had been no scarring. No royal wanted damaged goods.

Since that incident, Avelyn had used the time she and the other girls had been given to exercise in the hope to bridge that power gap. For one hour each day, the girls were permitted access to the Saiyans' training facilities. The more dangerous toys had been put away, leaving them with stationary bikes, treadmills, and small weights to help keep the unsightly fat from their bodies. With a little _persuasion_, Avelyn had convinced one of the guards to leave something a bit more challenging for her. What she got was a set of heavier weights, the largest of which weighing about two hundred pounds. The other girls didn't dare touch them for fear that the hard work required to lift them would cause them harm or broken nails.

Everyday Avelyn worked. She lifted the dumbbells in the various positions she had learned from watching the Saiyans train. She pushed herself to her limit, slowly feeling her muscles strengthen with each passing day until the weights felt little more than an afterthought to her limbs. With more insistence, she was left more equipment. No one said anything—not the guards nor the girls. They simply let her strain herself until she was so sore the next morning that she could hardly walk. Then they'd watch as she did it all over again the next day.

The result of her vigorous training was a lean frame devoid of body fat and showing slight ripples where her muscles were developing well. She was stronger, much stronger than she had been during her first attempt. But still, she doubted it was enough to overpower a Saiyan adolescent, let alone a fully grown man. She could continue to train, but she had only a week in which to somehow gain enough power to defeat not just one Saiyan, but a ship full.

What other options did she have? Unless she acted soon, she would be wrapped up and sold to the highest bidder. If she failed to please the prince, she would be passed around the royal military until she ended up alone and broken on some diseased planet. Hell, even being sold to the prince spelled almost certain death at the hands of his ferocious father. She didn't want that. She wanted her life back on Lorine. She wanted her performance, her friends, Auntie... She **had** to get off that ship.

Surprise! Surprise would be her best option. To go in the dead of the night, when the sentries were tired and lax and most the lights turned off to conserve energy and try to sneak on a ship. The mission would require stealth, something her tall frame sorely lacked. Despite all the balance and poise lessons she had been forced to endure at the academy, she was still as clumsy as she had been since childhood.

No matter, she would make up for her misgivings with careful planning. She could afford a few days to observe the guard shifts, the hallway layouts, and just what ships the docking bay contained. If she played her cards right, she might even coax some help out of Gohan, the guard who had left her the training equipment. Yes, that just might work. She could go see Gohan in the morning.

Her mind, satisfied with the developing plan, finally silenced enough to allow her to fall into a troubled sleep.

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><p>Since his uncle had spirited him away from his home when he was seven years old, Gohan had adjusted well to life amongst the Saiyans. Now at the age of thirty, he was stationed on a spaceship serving as a concubine training academy. Before then, he had been subjected to the harsh training of said Saiyans, the race he derived half of his DNA from. He knew early on that there was an enormous power within himself; he could feel it growing. But he had hidden it. Had the higher officers in the military discover his potential, he would have been sent on assignments and missions that could easily ended his life. That would be no good, considering his whole objective was to escape.<p>

Indeed, he had been planning a getaway since he was eleven. He remembered it well, the event that opened his eyes and finally pushed him to the realization that he needed to get out. He learned quickly just how harsh and ruthless the Saiyans were, but when he watched a man die before his very eyes, murdered by his own king, that was when he knew he didn't belong there. His memories of home were fuzzy, lost in that vast distance that time creates, but he knew that on Earth is where he needed to be. And with the royal family arriving at the end of the week, the escape had to happen soon.

"Gohan!" he heard a singsong voice purr behind him. He flinched as a pair of cool hands began caressing the exposed flesh of his arms and neck. "I haven't seen you around in awhile. Have you been avoiding me?" She gently pressed her pout into the sensitive flesh just behind his ear, at the top of his jaw. He gulped and looked around the empty barracks, thankful all the other guards were on duty or in the mess hall eating one of their three meager daily meals.

"A-Avelyn," he stuttered, feeling the heat rush to his face. He turned around to look at the young woman. His groin felt uncomfortably warm as she sat down in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He knew he shouldn't be attracted to her, considering he was a guard and she was technically the property of the king. Not to mention he was ten years her senior at least. But damn it all if the redhead wasn't something completely alluring, her impish smile captivating, her body one to lust after. She was his one ray of light in this hellhole floating in space.

"I missed you."

The low growl in her voice effectively awoke his desire. Before he had time to really recognize what he was doing, he had Avelyn pressed roughly against the far wall, his body merging with hers as his lips sought purchase on any available skin. He easily held both her arms above her head with one of his large hands, using the other to explore the tight body clad in even tighter clothing. After her initial impulse to struggle, Avelyn relaxed and let him take control. She moaned when he nipped at her collarbone, a delicious sound that had his hips yearning to jerk against hers. He pushed his lower body into hers, letting her feel the full effect of his arousal.

"Gohan..." she whimpered softly, head lolling to one side. He stopped his vicious attack on her neck and chest to pay attention to her lips. His tongue hungrily ravaged her mouth, exploring every part of it.

"Gohan," she repeated when he released her mouth to revisit her jaw line. "Gohan."

He stopped and straightened enough to look her in the eye, curious as to why she suddenly sounded cross. He remembered her reason and felt ashamed of himself. He let go of her arms and they fell limply to her sides. His excitement had made her lightheaded, he could tell. But he had pushed his luck, had almost went too far. The headmistress wasn't an idiot. She routinely submitted the girls to examinations to ensure that their virginity was intact. If they were discovered as no longer being pure, they were left on the closest planet to whatever fate may await them there.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. His voice was still thick and husky with lust. Avelyn's expression instantly softened and she took him gently by the hands.

"I just don't want you doing anything you may regret later," she replied. She began walking forward, forcing him to back up until the back of his knees collided roughly with a cot. He sat down heavily.

"Or anything you may regret," he mused.

She placed a delicate hand on his chest, pushing him down on the bed. She laid down next to him and he wrapped his arm easily around her. She settled comfortably into his body. He could feel her rapid heartbeat and heavy breathing, a testament to their earlier exertions.

"You locked the door?" he asked, knowing it would be rather awkward if someone were to walk in on them. He didn't think anyone would be back for quite sometime, but one could never be too sure.

"Check," she replied, absent-mindedly playing with the lip of his pants. Her hot breath blew across his shirtless torso, causing his skin to prickle. Gohan gulped. This is going to be hard. He glanced down at the growing bulge in his pants. _Really_ hard.

"What, uh," he coughed to clear his throat, "what did you want then?"

She paused. "Nothing," came her innocent reply. "I just wanted to visit you."

"Aren't you supposed to be in lessons or something?"

"Or something..."

Her elusive responses had him on edge. While it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus with her fingers slipping in and out of his pants, he could tell something was up. She was acting suspiciously like the way she had when she first asked him for more training equipment.

"What's going on?" he asked directly, kissing the top of her head. She smelled like she always did, like floral perfume. He loved it.

"Nothing important," she began slowly. "The prince is coming to pick out a new concubine."

It was like an arrow had been shot through Gohan's chest. He knew he couldn't have Avelyn. He knew what she was, why she was there. He knew that she would eventually be sold off. And he knew the royals were on their way. But to hear her say it brought the reality that he might lose her to the forefront of his mind. He realized in that instant that he was in love with her, the girl he had known for less than a few months. His arm tightened reflexively. He wasn't ready to lose her just yet.

"Yeah," he replied, voice tight.

"But..." she trailed off.

"What?" he asked, eager to hear what she had to say. Perhaps they were words of hope.

"No, it's too crazy, never mind."

"Ave, what is it? You can tell me."

She sat up and twisted to look at him. Her red hair fell in waves over her shoulder and swept over his stomach. He longed to reach out and run his fingers through it. She placed a hand squarely on his chest and leaned in close. Her green eyes bore into his with an intensity he had yet to see from her.

"Let's run away," she whispered.

Gohan felt his eyes widen in surprise. He was hoping she was going to say something like that, but couldn't believe it. She knew as well as he did that an escape was difficult, if not impossible.

"Gohan, I don't want to be a whore. I want to be with _you_."

Her eyes began to brim with tears. Gohan reached up and gently forced her head down to rest on his chest. He gave in to his whim and began combing his fingers through her hair. His head started swimming with thoughts; worries, fears, apprehensions. But above all, the notion that this moment was perfect and how he wanted nothing more than to share many more with her commanded his full attention.

"It's not going to be easy," he commented.

"I know," she agreed softly.

"We don't have much time."

"A week."

"But it's worth a shot."

Avelyn pressed a smile into his forehead an both his heart and mind were abruptly in agreement: He would do anything to be with her.

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><p><strong>AN: **Wait, wasn't this supposed to be a Trunks/OC fic? XD Haha, I couldn't resist throwing Gohan in there. He won't be around long, but his role is very important to the Trunks/Avelyn dynamic I'm envisioning.

And my, wasn't that a heated chapter? Let me know if you liked it. Should it stay or go? I've never written anything like that before, so feedback would be lovely.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I am so so sorry about the lateness of this update. My computer battery died and I had to wait for a new one to come in the mail and... I'm a terrible person. I apologize. Also, this chapter is really short. But longer ones should be coming soon, though you may have to wait for them...

And millions of thanks to everyone who has commented or added this story to your favorites/alerts. If you guys hadn't shown me that you like this story, I would have just given up. But I didn't! Because I love you all.

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><p>Entry Number 2<p>

It's been two days since I spoke with Gohan. The rumor of the royal family's arrival has spread throughout the entire compound. Everyone, from the girls to the guards, is whispering about the visit. They're all excited. I, however, feel sick, uneasy. Gohan was supposed to contact me ages ago so we could go over the escape plan. We both agreed that our best bet would be to make a break for it when the king's ship was docking at the academy. That would be the time when everyone was the most distracted.

But, I feel it would be reckless to speak my escape plans aloud. So, instead, why don't I tell you, dear journal, about how awful I feel? About using Gohan, I mean. He's a kind man, I know. He's only half Saiyan, so he tells me. That much is evident from the way the other guards treat him. They keep their distance, as I've been told Saiyans abhor the existence of half-breeds, seeing them as impure mutts of their great warrior blood. I always found that somewhat amusing, seeing as how their prince is a Halfling himself.

That's beside the point. Halfling or not, he's not a typical Saiyan. He's never anything but gentle with me. He speaks kindly, he touches gently; he's a wonderful man. But I'm using him. I have no intention of running off with him to his home planet, Earth. He thinks I do. I've told him that I want nothing more than to go with him to meet the father he calls Goku and the mother he calls Chi-Chi.

In truth, I plan to leave him behind and escape to my own planet of Lorine. I'm not sure how I'm going to do it, exactly. I just need Gohan to get me past the guards. If he could just keep them distracted enough to let me sneak past… After that, I'll leave him to his fate. I hope he survives, though. It would be such a waste for such a kind Saiyan to die.

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><p>A loud screeching interrupted Avelyn's soliloquy. She set the journal down on her bed and rushed to her door, flinging it open to see what was going on. A double row of stony-faced guards marched silently down the corridor. The men stopped to position themselves in front of each of the many doors set into the walls. Avelyn saw that she was not the only curious girl. Several doors were opened as wide-eyed heads poked out into the hall. Avelyn looked to her left and saw Ishane, who looked back at her and mouthed the words, <em>"What's going on?"<em> The redhead simply shook her head in response. She had no clue.

As the last guard reached the farthest door, the Saiyans stopped their marching. In unison, they turned to face the center of the corridor and clicked their heels together. Avelyn had to strain her neck to see around the broad shoulders of the guard who had stopped in front of her door. She saw a hunched, robbed figure hobbling up the hall before the guard shifted on his feet, getting in her way again.

"Ladies, ladies," a shrill voice called just as the siren stopped blaring. Avelyn flinched. The voice belonged to the second in command of the academy, the headmistress's lackey known simply as "Beta." "Please, go back to your rooms. This is an official lockdown. You will remain in your quarters until I give the orders for you to be released."

Avelyn did as instructed, not wanting to face the wrath of Beta. Though she appeared weak, with her doubled-over frame and constantly shaking hands, no one knew just how cruel she could be more than Avelyn herself. Many a punishment had been inflicted on her at the hands of that pitiful-looking creature. She shuddered as she stepped back into the warm light of her room. Though, she thought, if she believed Beta was scary, she was nothing when compared to the headmistress herself. Avelyn reached around to stroke a thin, invisible line running the length of her back as a twinge went up the nonexistent scar. No, royals did **not **like damaged goods.

"If you wanted to be touched…"

Avelyn spun around at the sound of his voice. She gave a surprised squeak to see Gohan standing in front of her, closing her bedroom door behind himself. It was her turn to shock _him_ when she half-ran, half-jumped into his arms. He laughed, delighted by her happiness to see him. In truth, she was simply relieved he had shown up and not run off without her, as she was planning on doing to him.

"Oh, _Gohan_," she began, deciding on a whim to play the love-struck damsel in distress. It would only make him want to protect her all the more. "What's going on?"

He kept gentle hold of her waist and led her to the bed, where he sat her down. Then, he slowly kneeled in front of her, grasping her delicate hands in his large ones. She almost couldn't bring herself to look back at his face and the open, honest expression it held—almost. Instead, she held his gaze with an equally pitiable look of her own.

"Avelyn, I love you more than anything else in this world."

Her stomach twisted into a hard knot at his words. The emotion in his voice almost broke it, causing it to rise slightly in pitch. Oh no, she thought, not a confession; anything but a confession.

"I honestly didn't know what I was going to do with my life before you. I mean, I knew I wanted to escape from the Saiyans and get back to my family, but I never had the courage to do it, to run away… until now. Now I have something—someone—" he corrected himself, "I want to protect."

Avelyn fought to repress the guilt growing in the pit of her tangled stomach. After a brief moment's struggle, she was successful in the battle. She had to use Gohan to run away. There was no other option. She couldn't stand to stay there and play the part of a whore for the rest of her life. Maybe one day he would forgive her, and maybe not. It was a risk she had to take.

"Gohan, I love you too," she replied, her voice shaking with nerves. Luckily for her, the man kneeling before her mistook the emotion in her voice for that of passion.

"You do?" he asked, glancing up at her with wide, glossy eyes.

No, Avelyn thought to herself, there was no way any full-blooded Saiyan would show this much emotion. She nodded meekly and gasped when his arms were suddenly around her, holding her to his body with a calm urgency only he could pull off. That was Gohan; ever gentle, thinking of her fragile human body despite his need for her. Her heart gave a sad pang and she wondered what it was that kept her from truly falling in love with him. Perhaps the part of him that belonged to the Saiyans was just too much for her to look past…

Gohan drew away slowly but kept a firm grip on her shoulders. He caught her gaze and held it steadily. "I know our plan was to escape four days from now, when the royal ship arrived, but…" he trailed off, his eyes flicking to her lips before returning to her own eyes once again. It was clear that even now, when he exuded a sense of importance, his physical attraction to her distracted him. She took note; the information could be useful to her later—if there ever were a later. "The headmistress is planning on flying out to meet the royal ship before it docks here," he finally spit out.

"The lockdown," she began, realization dawning on her. Whenever the headmistress had to leave the academy for an extended amount of time, the girls were locked away in their rooms until she returned, whiling away the hours waiting for their meals to arrive and entertaining themselves however they could. It was usually an unbearable event. Thankfully, it didn't happen often or, Avelyn felt, the isolation would drive most of the girls crazy.

Gohan nodded. "She's taking a small entourage with her, which means there are ships being prepared, waiting in the docking station."

Avelyn quirked an eyebrow at his tone. Did he really intend for them to go now? It made sense, she supposed. There were ships ready for them, practically begging to be commandeered. Avelyn glanced at her closet wistfully. She hadn't had time to pack. Gohan followed her gaze and gave a low chuckle. He pulled her to her feet and brought her close, nuzzling the top of her head as he did so.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice full of amusement, "I'll buy you all the things you could ever want if we get out of here."

"_When_," she corrected, curling her fists into determined balls at her side. "When we get out of here."

Gohan took her hands and brought them up to his chest, letting her feel the rush of his heartbeat. She glanced up at him, blushing not because of their close proximity, but for the blatant lie she had just told. There would be no "we" escaping the academy. However, he had no way of knowing that, as trusting as he was, and the smile she saw on his face was the most radiant and hopeful thing she had seen since she'd been at the academy.

* * *

><p>Trunks limped through the gray-toned hallway and winced as he leaned against the wall next to his room door. He had spent a full hour in the regeneration tank and his body was still a mess. Thankfully, bruises were all that were left of the rigorous beating his father had given him. He punched in the security code on the numbered pad on his door and stood back as the metal slab slid open. He sighed as he sat down slowly on the single, small white couch in the room. The cold material felt good on his flaming skin. He was about to prop his feet up on the low glass table in front of him when a knock came at his door.<p>

"Trunks!" shouted an all too familiar voice. "Open up!"

This time, his sigh was out of annoyance rather than relief. "Go away, Bra," he returned.

As expected, his request wasn't honored as the door slid open again to reveal his blue-haired younger sister. He stared in astonishment. He had changed the code before he left to train, when she hadn't been paying attention. How had she managed to get in again?

Seeing his expression, she rolled her eyes and plopped down on his bed. "Oh, really, you think a four digit code can keep me out?" She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "It was child's play."

"What do you want now?" he asked, deciding to drop the subject of her breaking and entering. She was Bulma's daughter after all, as sure as he was her son. Of course she would be able to get past such a simple security measure.

"I was just wondering—"

He groaned before she could finish the sentence. Experience had taught him that nothing good came from a sentence that she started with the words "I was just wondering…"

"—what kind of girl you were going to pick out," she continued, ignoring his noises.

"_That's_ what you want?" he asked in relief. "To know what kind of girl I'm going to get?"

She simply looked back at him, not amused in the slightest. She was serious, he realized, completely serious. Apparently, she hadn't been joking earlier, as he had hoped. She was taking more of an interest in the ordeal than he was, which was odd, considering that he was the one going to be stuck with the concubine.

"You're not going to have anything to do with her, are you?" Bra countered. "No, you're not. You never do. Meanwhile, I'm always alone because it's improper for women to keep men as pets and daddy chases all the boys away!" She crossed her arms over her chest in frustration. "All I'm saying is that if you're forced to pick out someone you don't care about anyway, I want her."

Trunks contemplated his sister's words. It was true that in Saiyan society, noble women were frowned upon for keeping male concubines. While the sexes were treated equally on the battlefield, different rules applied at home. Also, being Vegeta's only daughter meant that no one could go near her without the threat of death looming over their heads. Bra was the ruthless king's one soft spot, besides the mother of his children. It was completely plausible for her to feel alone, though Trunks had never considered the possibility before. Bra had always been Bra; loud, selfish, and obnoxious. For her to feel an emotion as real as solitude was a new aspect of her personality he, as her older brother, had never seen before. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with it.

"Erm…" he trailed off, knowing that the wrong words would anger the girl and send her into a fit of insults. "What kind of girl would you like, then?"

Her face brightened and Trunks sighed inwardly. He felt like he had dogged one of his father's energy blasts.

"Well, she has to be pretty, but not prettier than me, of course. And she has to agree to let me be her fashion guru. But don't pick out someone weak, especially not a crier. I couldn't handle a crybaby. Basically, she has to have a good personality, kinda like mine, but not exactly, you know? And…"

Trunks zoned out to her babble. Her checklist had his mind started on pondering the "what if's" had he actually put thought into the women he had chosen. Before, it had always been the same thing; days of travel to some academy, his lack of interest, and his father making the choice for him in the end. Women had been paraded before his eyes so many times that he quit looking some time ago. His indifference owning a concubine had Vegeta worried that his son was gay, and while homosexuality was well and good, it wasn't very promising for the continuation of the royal blood.

So, what would he, Trunks, want in a companion? The harder he thought about it, the more he had no clue.

"Trunks, are you even listening to me?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked to his sister. She was staring back at him with raised eyebrows.

"I can't believe it! You weren't even paying attention!"

"I was!" he spluttered, flinching as she stood up suddenly. Bra was terrifying when she was angry.

"Whatever, I have other things to do anyway," she said as she walked across the room and out the door.

Trunks watched her leave in slight confusion. Usually her outbursts were louder and lasted a whole lot longer than that one had. She seemed somewhat subdued today. She was also acting really strange, even for Bra. Perhaps something really was bothering her, Trunks thought. If only their mother hadn't taken that last minute trip to her home planet, he mused. She could always set Bra straight when she was like this. He laced his fingers behind his head and propped his feet up on the table. _Oh well, she'll get over it soon enough._

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><p><strong>AN:** And the plot thickens! Gohan and Ave, huh? Escape, huh? Nothing can go wrong, huh? :D

I debated on whether or not having Bra be Bra or Bulla, because those are both her names, correct? Bulla means bra just as Bulma means underwear. But I've seen Bra used more than Bulla, so... I'm also thinking about giving her character more depth than usual. She didn't really have a big part in the anime, and that's a shame I think.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **So, just a little heads up. This chapter right here is why the rating is M. It's graphic. Very.

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><p>It was cold. The stone floor beneath her was hard. She could no longer feel the arms that were suspended above her head to rusting chains. Avelyn coughed suddenly and her entire chest protested with a hot stab of pain. As she sat there shivering, she tried to think back on the events of the past few hours, wanting to pinpoint when things had gone so terribly and utterly <em>wrong.<em> She remembered being led from her room by Gohan, how he had swiftly carried her through corridors and up flights of stairs to reach the docking station of the academy. She recalled the mechanical sound as a set of white double doors slid open, revealing a large, brightly-lit room full of all manner of spacecraft and then…

Nothing.

Her memory went blank after that exact moment. She could deduce, however, from the state her body was in and her current location, that she and Gohan had been caught and the guards had overlooked the fact that she was a delicate woman and not, in fact, a sturdy Saiyan, leaving her body spotted with ugly green and purple bruises and broken bones. She shut her eyes tight against the realization that they had failed, that she would not escape this hell and would very likely die in it.

"Avelyn."

She glanced up to look at the figure crumpled in the corner across from her. The person was most definitely male, his muscle-rippled form doubled over and littered with cuts and bruises in more abundance than her own. Though her hair, matted with dirt and blood, obscured much of her vision, she could still make out enough to recognize who the pathetic-looking figure was.

_Gohan._

Oh god, that really was Gohan. He looked so… broken. The proud, confident way with which he usually held his chin was gone, replaced by a head hung so low his forehead was nearly touching the floor. His voice as he called her name was low and raw with disuse. It was his eyes, though, that brought tears to her own. There was still light in them, determination remaining though their situation seemed hopeless. He even managed to give her a weak smile.

"You'll be all right. I'll make sure of it."

"_Gohan_," she repeated, this time out loud. Her voice echoed eerily off the stone walls and unsettled her mind. "Gohan, I'm so sorry."

"No, Ave." He gave a grunt of pain and twisted a little in his chains. "It's not your fault. I'll get you out of here, you'll see."

No, Gohan, you don't get it, she thought to herself as she watched him struggle with his bonds. She was going to leave him to this fate earlier. She would have escaped on a ship alone, had they not been somehow found out and stopped. And she knew, deep down, that she would have moved on and forgotten about him if given the chance. But now she was forced to watch him suffer and agonize by his side. Karma, it seemed, had caught up with her.

"Pretty shitty to punish him too, don't ya think?" she spat under her breath. She heard Gohan question what she had said, but just shook her head in response. The guilt she had felt since first forming the plan to use Gohan and then ditch him suddenly hit against her ribcage with a force to knock the air from her lungs. There was no way she could tell him now; not about how she didn't truly love him, not about her real intentions, nothing. It was bad enough that he, after all his kindness and devotion, had to die in a place like this, and she was determined to let him die in peace. Even if that meant continuing her lie until she too finally gave up and quit living.

"Avelyn, I love you."

She looked up in shock at the sudden profession. "I—" Her response was cut off as the cell door creaked open. Four guards marched in—two to stand watch over her and two to unchain Gohan and drag him from the room. He fought against them, feeble as his attempts were. They took turns kicking him until he stilled.

"Gohan! I love you!" Avelyn shouted after him, knowing in her heart that she didn't mean the words, but that they would give Gohan strength to hear. "I love you too! _**Gohan!**_"

Something solid hit the side of her head and sent it reeling her back. Her throat burned as blood from her cheek, cut on her teeth, dribbled down it. Her eyes watered with pain.

"Hey, Dondo, what do ya suppose they're gonna do with this bitch?" said one of the two remaining guards; a large man with ugly, pallid skin and a nasty sneer on his face.

"Probably kill her, seeing as how she's not tame," replied his companion; an improvement in looks from the other, but with the same vile expression.

"Then they wouldn't mind if I had a little fun, eh?"

Avelyn stared in horror as the man stooped down and leaned over her. She didn't like the way his eyes raked over her body or the fat, sweaty hand she could feel on her exposed thigh.

"Look at her, she's just begging for it," he laughed, gesturing to her torn, threadbare dress.

She shut her eyes tight when she heard fabric rip. The cold air on her newly-exposed breasts caused her skin to pimple. She whimpered as a moist, hot mouth descended on her right nipple, biting and sucking with uncontrolled force. But it was when her legs were forced apart and she felt a body settle between her did she start screaming. She tried pushing him away, but the chains bound to her wrists kept them above her head.

"No! Stop! Damn it, stop!" she shrieked, trying to wriggle from under his crushing weight.

"Dondo, do me a favor and shut her up, will ya?" her attacker grunted.

Avelyn shook her head forcefully when she saw the other man, Dondo, grin wickedly and pull his pants down around his ankles. She closed her eyes again, but not before glimpsing his groin and the erection growing there. She felt his penis at her mouth and shut it tight, biting down on the insides of her lips until she drew blood, but it was no use. With one swift jerk of his hips, he had forced his head inside, past her teeth, to tickle the roof of her mouth. She tried to scream around it, but it was no use. There was no room for the sound to escape her throat, making her choke on silent words.

Before she had time to register the saltiness of the flesh inside her mouth and its sour taste, a lancing pain between her thighs made her gasp. The other man was entering her without ceremony. Dondo took this moment to force himself all the way in, to the back of her throat. She tried to cough him up and bit down hard, shaking her head viciously. It did nothing to discourage him as he began to rock his hips back and forth.

Meanwhile, the man at her waist speared her with brutal vigor, splitting her nearly in half. Tears streamed down her face as he tore and stretched her. Never had anything hurt so much in her life. He massaged her breasts as well, though it was more of an excruciating, rough kneading that she was sure to bruise from.

It was growing hard to breathe. With the man in her mouth, frequently blocking her air passage, and the one roughly bouncing her body up and down in time with his fervent pace, she was beginning to feel lightheaded. She was in so much pain, she simply wished she would black out again and remain unconscious throughout the rest of this ordeal. It was useless to shout, to try to stop it. The Saiyan guards easily overpowered her and no one would care to come to her aid anyway. She quit fighting and simply lay there limp, wishing for it all to end.

"Atta girl," Dondo cooed as her jaw went slack, giving him more room to move.

The guard who first came at her released first as well, grabbing at her waist as his orgasm rocked his body. She could feel his cum inside, the heat of his seed, as it filled her belly. She wanted to vomit, but found herself swallowing and choking instead as Dondo came next. Semen spilled out of her lips and she spat most of it on the floor as soon as his penis withdrew. She coughed and spluttered, trying to expel the vile taste from her tongue.

Both men stepped away from her to clean up their bodies and return their clothing to its proper places. They left her without a word, locking the cell door behind them. She just lay on the floor, sobbing silently, feeling colder and emptier than ever before.

She attempted, after awhile, to sit up and arrange the tatters of her dress over her body in a more conservative fashion, and succeeded only partially. She scooted backward until her back was pressed against the wall and brought her knees to her chest to help conceal her exposed flesh, all for modesty's sake.

It wasn't until she heard an unknown door open and Gohan's agony-laced moan echo into her prison did she start to shake violently.

"Don't let him see me like this," she whispered to herself. "Oh please, God, don't let him see me like this."

For the second time that day, the cell door slid open. This time, Gohan—or, rather, a bloodied form that _resembled_ Gohan—was re-chained to the wall. He was unconscious. Avelyn found it hard to look at him. His body was misshapen and oozing blood and other bodily fluids. His breathing was ragged, his ribs concave under the ripped flesh of his chest. His limbs were bent at many odd, often opposite angles. His eyes were twin swollen balls of puckered skin.

The tears spilled over the rims of Avelyn's eyes and, instead of crying out as she had intended, she leaned forward and vomited, washing away the puddle cum at her feet with the last bile-filled contents of her stomach.

* * *

><p>Gohan tested the restraints binding his wrists and ankles to the cold table. It was no good. The ki-draining manacles meant that he was too weak to break the metal chains. He decided instead to look around the room he was in. The blank walls were of a bleached white color—eerily white, the kind that made his eyes water at their brightness. He supposed, though, that any amount of light would make his eyes water after being locked overnight in that dark cell.<p>

He was distracted from his thoughts as a door opened and closed behind him with a decisive _snick_. He stared at the single light bulb in the ceiling as a thin finger made its way from his collarbone to his kneecap. He shivered.

"My, my, my, what _have_ we here?"

His eyes widened at the sound of the voice. With it came the realization of where he was. This sickeningly-white room with its overbearing scent of cleaners and gore rested between the lowest deck of the ship, the prisons, and the guards' barracks above. This was the punishment level. This was a torture room.

This was Beta's territory.

"Someone's been a very naughty soldier, haven't they?"

Gohan continued to stare at the light. He felt his retinas begin to burn with the effort, but kept his focus. He knew what was about to happen to him, he could taste it in the bile rising in his throat, hear it in Beta's throaty chuckle. He heard the rustle of cloth as that despicable creature removed its robe and slung it over the only other furniture in the room—a sleek metal table playing host to a variety of menacing toys.

Beta, now uncovered, stretched out its doubled-over spine in a series of pops and cracks and rose to its full height, head a mere few feet from the ceiling. Gohan tried his best to keep his eyes averted from the beast, but he caught glimpses from the corner of his eye.

There were rumors about Beta circulating all over the academy. Girls who found themselves unfortunate enough to wind up in the punishment level refrained from speaking about their time spent here. More often than not, soldiers sent to be disciplined by Beta were transferred to some other hovel somewhere, too frightened to remain at their posts. It was only through Avelyn that Gohan could even begin to comprehend the horrors that occurred down here. She had visited this level more than once as she was constantly breaking rules since she arrived. And every time he heard that she had been down here, he had gone to comfort her, had held her while she stared mutely at her bedroom wall, forcing herself not to cry.

After the shaking had passed, that was when she would tell him. She would describe the way Beta looked at her, the way Beta spoke to her, and the way Beta knew how to inflict pain without leaving any evidence behind. She told him of Beta's gruesome appearance; the scaly, white skin pulled tight over a misshapen skull, the clear, lightless eyes, and the serpentine body that haunted her dreams. He remembered his frustration with Avelyn after, despite all she would tell him, she would misbehave again and end up right back in Beta's clutches. And suddenly he grew angry; angry at the creature before him, angry at himself, and angry at the world, all for his inability to protect the one thing most important to him.

Avelyn.

The name shot through his mind just as a searing pain shot through his lower leg. His resolve breaking, he looked down and instantly wished he hadn't. The flesh of his right leg had been slashed open and was being held apart by an intimidating-looking clamp.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Beta began, taking another instrument from the table and turning it over in the light. "Such a beautiful specimen. Too bad I have to break you."

Gohan gritted his teeth as the instrument was inserted into his calf. He felt the sweat break out on his forehead. But he wouldn't scream. He refused to give that _thing_ the satisfaction.

"I've mapped and explored every part of the Saiyan body. I know of ways to send you into crippling spasms of pain, worse than any little ole tug if the tail, of course."

He tried to keep his composure as Beta laughed. "Why?" he choked out as he felt the blood, warm and thick, saturate his back. Beta, after poking around in his leg for a minute, had closed the wound with swift and nimble fingers.

Beta shrugged. "I enjoy it."

As if to prove the point, Beta took Gohan's hips in a strong grip and gave one swift twist to the right. Gohan's determination splintered with the bones in his pelvis and he howled, loud and low. He shut his eyes against the pain. Encouraged by the response, Beta moved on to other parts of his body, breaking bones and tearing flesh with a methodical speed, pausing only to relish in the tormented sounds he forced from Gohan's lips.

Gohan wasn't sure how long he was strapped to that table. It could have been minutes, hours, days, until he felt the absence of Beta's hands, heard the absence of its laughter. He recognized, slightly, the reappearance of the guards who had dragged him here and groaned as they dragged him back. He watched through a haze as the door to his cell was unlocked and he reentered the darkness. As his first set of chains found their way around his wrists, all light faded away and he fell back into the abyss of unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **I know I promised longer chapters, and this one's really short, but this is the last "intro" chapter before the real plot of the story gets going.

Also, I drew a little rendition of how I imagine Avelyn. You can check out the sketch in the link in my profile. I'm currently working on the finished, colored version and hope to have it done soon.

Lastly, a huge thank you to my one reviewer and all of you who added this to your favorites/alerts. It means a lot and is the only reason I keep writing. ^^

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><p>"You're late," Vegeta growled at the woman kneeling before him. He attempted to suppress a yawn as he lounged in his stiff-backed throne. Despite the continual harsh white rays streaming from the ship's lights, his body knew how late the hour was and was persistent in reminding him that he should have been in bed at this time.<p>

"I apologize, sire," the woman began. "But I had some last-minute matters to attend to before I could set out."

Vegeta sneered. He had expected more of a fight to this woman as he watched her strut into his makeshift throne room. The lofty way she held her head and looked down on his Saiyan guards had made him hopeful for an excited exchange. But she had become as spineless as all his other subjects had when he turned his glare on them.

Pitiful.

"And what matters were so important that you delayed meeting your king?"

His earlier sentiments about the hour were voiced in the light, airy yawn emanating to the right of his throne. His daughter, Bra, had roused herself at the activity on the ship, eager for gossip as she always was. Unlike his son, who was no doubt still asleep in his quarters, Bra was present for all the major goings-on wherever she may be. Vegeta could bet that, despite her tired appearance, she was listening intently and watching the scene with wide eyes, so as not to miss a detail.

"My lord, I assure you that everything was swiftly taken care of and the matter solved."

The woman's head remained bowed and Vegeta could see a vein in her neck throb as her hair cascaded to the opposite side. He raised an eyebrow. Had he hit a nerve? He examined the woman a little more closely. Her body was indeed betraying her agitation, her muscles rigid and stiff.

"What was the matter?" he asked again, enunciating each word carefully. He didn't take well to repeating himself.

"It seems that one of my girls and your guards conspired to commandeer a ship and run away together."

Vegeta ignored Bra's excited gasp. "Rise to your feet and tell that to me again."

She did as he commanded and, keeping her eyes lowered in a show of respect, repeated the sentence she had just uttered. The king paused as she answered his further inquiry of who the perpetrators were. The girl, Avelyn, he did not know and did not care about. It was the guard he was interested in. Gohan… The name tugged at his memories faintly, but his sleep-deprived mind couldn't place why it seemed important. It didn't matter. He would recognize the traitor when he would arrive at the academy and go to interrogate him in less than two days.

"And you have taken care of it?"

She nodded once. "Yes, sire. I had them both imprisoned before I departed and left my second in command in charge of their care."

"You left that monster Beta in—!"

Vegeta silenced his daughter's incredulous exclamation with a wave of his hand. This development did indeed present a problem. Beta was known throughout this part of the galaxy as a barely-civilized beast delighting in pain and torture. He had always questioned the headmistress's decision to keep Beta on as head of punishment, let alone promote the creature to her second on command. Now there was no guarantee that the prisoners would live through the two days it would take to close the distance between the royal ship and concubine academy.

"This does trouble me," Vegeta explained. "By all rights and means, all members aboard your little academy are the property of your king and his empire. I will be incredibly dissatisfied if I arrive to find _my_ possessions in less-than-desirable condition."

He felt a smug smirk stretch across his lips as the woman paled. Bra's delighted chuckle helped bolster his enjoyment of her unease. It seemed he would get a little amusement after all.

* * *

><p>Trunks awoke in the morning to his sister's presence sitting beside his stretched out form. To say the sight of her staring at him was unnerving was an understatement. He rolled over to look at his alarm clock and immediately put a hand over his eyes and sighed. It was at least an hour before his usually time of waking.<p>

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly, feeling slightly like he had been asking her the same question often lately.

"That headmistress woman arrived a few hours ago."

"Nn," he grunted, not really caring about anything than the hour of sleep he was missing out on. Rest was so difficult to come by when your father was a Saiyan king bent on making you a super Saiyan if it was the last thing he'd do.

"And I was wondering if you thought any more about what girl you're going to get."

He opened his eyes in surprise. "Isn't that like the third time you've mentioned that now?"

"I'm just saying," she countered defensively. "That ghastly woman brought with her the files of all the eligible women. I put the copies on your table, in case you wanted to look through them."

Trunks sat up, sneezing as a strand of violet hair tickled his nose. It was getting long; he'd have to get it cut when he got home. He looked through bleary eyes at the low glass coffee table sitting in front of the only couch in the room. It was, in fact, stacked high with manila folders.

"You expect me to read through all of those?"

Apparently, this was the question Bra had been waiting for, because she shot off into a frenzy of animated words and hand gestures. "Of course not, I took the liberty to place my favorite candidates at the top of the pile and even highlighted key facts and important attributes—"

Trunks shut her up by shoving her off his bed and onto the floor. He swung his legs over the side and disentangled himself from his sheets. He ignored her angry protests and he strode over to his bathroom and shut and locked the door behind himself. He wasted no time turning on the shower and ignored her loud banging on the door as he stepped under the hot jet of water.

He'd had enough of women for a lifetime.

* * *

><p>Bra stormed out of her older brother's room, frustrated that the automatic sliding doors of the ship meant that it was impossible for her to slam them. She chose instead to stomp to her own room, glaring at any and everyone she passed.<p>

It was like no one cared! She had been alone for as long as she could remember. Being the daughter of the king and a Halfling on top of that was excruciating. Not only were guys hardly ever interested in her, but if they did anything about it, her maniac father would swoop in and ruin the fun! Sure, having the wealth and status that came with being royalty granted her quite a few female friends, if she could call them that. They were all in it for the money and the title. Not one of those haughty bitches actually gave a damn about her.

And with her mother always off on goodwill missions, locked away in her labs inventing new technology to aid the war, or taking trips to her beloved Earth, there was no time to make for her daughter. There was no way she was going to talk to her father, despite the time she spent in his throne room, soaking up the latest news and happenings. Nor did she feel safe in confiding in her brother, brooding and moody as he already was.

The truth was, Bra felt totally and utterly alone.

Her whole plan was for her brother to buy her the companionship she needed. A purchased woman, she hoped, would have no need to lie to her or to pretend to care for her. Why, she would be just as lonely and scared as Bra herself was. They would find common ground and bond. And she wouldn't be lonely anymore.

Anyway, she knew of Trunks's disinterest in the women. She knew everything about everyone, and that certainly didn't exclude her family. She had heard of the women who tried to seduce him, who craved his attention and his status, but he had not responded to their attempts. Bra was aware of the girls who cowered in fear before him, who loathed him and spat on him.

No matter who graced the chambers beside his own at the palace, he never stepped foot inside. He never visited his concubines or had anything to do with them. So it would be no bog loss for him to pick out a girl Bra would prefer to befriend.

And she wouldn't be lonely anymore.

* * *

><p>Avelyn didn't want to open her eyes, which were crusted over with sleep and dried tears. Her whole body ached in a way it had never ached before. The space between her thighs was burning and her hips popped when she slid her bruised legs closed. Her jaw was stiff and sore from being forced open and stretched to its limits. She was covered in a film of grime and sweat, her skin burning despite the chill of the stone cell.<p>

She suppressed a groan as she thought about all she had been through. The men came often. Sometimes Gohan was here, sometimes he was off to wherever they took him, always to return in worse shape than before. Sometimes she was conscious, sometimes she wasn't. It didn't matter. Whenever they came, they used her however they wanted and left without ceremony.

Gohan, she knew, was being subjected to torture different than her own. His body was being broken in another way. She recognized it as Beta's handiwork. No one else could so methodically and completely tear apart a being and keep it living through all that pain for so long.

She glanced at him, blissfully unconscious and unaware, and felt the guilt come crashing down again. She hung her head, but the tears wouldn't come. She had cried too much, was too dehydrated to weep in shame now. This was the price she would pay for her betrayal and her deceit to the one kind person Fate had thrown her way.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **I promised a longer chapter, and here one is! It's over 3,000 words, the longest chapter yet. I would've made it longer, but the next part would have made it too long, I think.

Big thanks and lots of love to **koolkat44 **and **Kamaria Jay **for their reviews! They make my day. 3

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><p>She had lost all concept of time in that hell. The prison stayed the same dingy, bleak color no matter the hour. She couldn't remember the last time she had been given food or water. Her growling stomach was no indicator to go by, considering how much her entire body hurt. Every pain eventually blended into the same all-encompassing agony.<p>

Gohan fared no better. Avelyn's eyes traveled over his broken frame. She was sure he was still taking those shallow, raspy breaths by sheer will alone. His heated words of encouragement and promises to her had stopped a little while ago, his whole focus poured into surviving. She knew there was no hope they would make it out of the cell alive, but swore to herself that if a miracle occurred and they somehow met beyond this stone crypt in the afterlife, she'd make it up to him. Somehow, someway, even if it meant truly tying to fall in love with him and changing herself to become the woman he deserved, she'd repay him for first putting the thought to run away into his head.

A noise outside the cell made her flinch and shrink back against the wall. The familiar jangle of keys had her stomach in knots. It was too soon for them to return. The guards had just been there to drag Gohan away. Their cum hadn't even had time to dry in her matted hair and stain her already stained, torn clothes. She grimaced when the light from the hall fell on her face. It was bright.

"Here they are, sire."

Avelyn looked up at the voice. It belonged to the headmistress, but it wasn't the tall, foreboding woman that stepped through the door. Instead, a short man with thick, dark hair that stood on its ends strolled into the cell and stood in the center of the room. Behind him came four guards—a different four than the ones Avelyn had come to despise—each carrying an electric torch. She dared not to look away, not believing her eyes. She recognized this man. He was Vegeta, king of all Saiyans and one of the factors that led to her being kidnapped and brought to the academy. As his cold gaze flicked over her and then to Gohan, she couldn't help but feel her skin crawl. This was the man who had murdered thousands, probably millions, without a second thought.

"Gohan… Why do I know you?"

The king approached Gohan, who was just conscious enough to give a low groan as he was lifted up by what remained of his shirt. Avelyn started forward, intending to stop him, until a new presence caught her eye. Standing in the cell doorway, his shadow falling across her line of sight, was another Saiyan in armor, the royal emblem carved on his breastplate. The pale violet hair gave him away as the prince. His blue eyes were looking on the scene with a grim expression, his thin lips turned down in a tight frown. For a few small seconds, Avelyn forgot her dire situation and lost herself in the concerned look on his face.

"Kakarot's brat!" Vegeta exclaimed suddenly. Avelyn tore her gaze away from the prince and redirected it to his father instead. "This is where you ended up, eh?" He gave a jerk to the shirt and the thin material tore, leaving Gohan to tumble to the hard ground.

"No!" Avelyn shouted before she could stop herself. Her manacles strained against her wrists and ankles as she tried to reach him. Her movement caused Vegeta's attention to turn to her. He gave a bitter laugh.

"You there, your name is Avelyn?"

She snarled and spit at him, anger coursing through her. He was treating this as a joke. He just let Gohan drop, making no effort to catch him. He was clearly injured and in no condition to be handled so roughly. And now he was laughing. She hated him. She hated him and his whole damn brutal race.

"Heh, you have some fire to you," he remarked, wiping the saliva that had landed on his pants away with one gloved hand. "But, I knew this before I met you. You told me all about yourself…"

He motioned to one of the guards and to Avelyn's horror, her journal appeared from behind his back. Vegeta took it in his hands and grinned at the open cover. Her eyes widened in realization. She had left it unlocked on her bed.

"I'm nothing if not a merciful king," that awful little man continued, "and I believe Gohan here should know what he sacrificed himself for. I owe him that much, after the visit I paid to his home planet."

Gohan looked up with swollen, purple and green-rimmed eyes as the metal journal was thrown at the ground by his head and Avelyn's recorded voice began to fill up the empty space in the room, echoing off the stone walls.

_"So, instead, why don't I tell you, dear journal, about how awful I feel? About using Gohan, I mean. He's a kind man, I know…"_

"No!" Avelyn screamed as she realized what Vegeta was doing. Gohan looked at her, mouth open in surprise. "No! Gohan! Don't believe any of that! It's not true!"

_ "In truth, I plan to leave him behind and escape to my own planet of Lorine. I'm not sure how I'm going to do it, exactly. I just need Gohan to get me past the guards. If he could just keep them distracted enough to let me sneak past… After that, I'll leave him to his fate."_

"Gohan, I swear to you that none of that is true! Not now…" She was sobbing now, trying to get him to look at her. He wasn't paying attention, just listening to what she had recorded days—had it really only been a few days?—ago.

"Gohan, please, I love you. I don't mean any of that. Please Gohan, believe me…"

_"I hope he survives, though. It would be such a waste for such a kind Saiyan to die."_

"Gohan…" The tears she thought she could no longer cry came pouring down her face, dripping into her hair and over her barely-covered breasts. She wanted to keep hating the Saiyans. She wanted to curse them for everything they'd done to her and to Gohan, but as she grew silent she knew it was her own fault. She sat huddled, shaking with quiet sobs, as the pure loathing for herself and all she had done washed over her being.

"Yes, what a waste."

The snide words snapped her from her emotions. She blinked the tears away in time to see Vegeta, one foot crushing her journal, the other embedded into Gohan's ribs as he rolled him to his side so that his face was turned towards the ceiling. His eyes rolled to the man standing above him and Avelyn gasped. Those eyes that had only ever looked at her with love and kindness and passion were now hollow and lightless. She bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood, knowing it was her fault. The words she had spoken in a past that now seemed to have been many millennia ago were what had finally broken his spirit. He knew that she had never really loved him, she had told him herself. How horrible she was… How _cruel_.

"Give your infernal father and his pet dragon my regards."

Avelyn didn't have time to register the words Vegeta had whispered into Gohan's ear as he grabbed a fistful of his hair and once again lifted him from the ground. As soon as the last syllable fell from his lips, his free hand sent a blazing blue ki blast through the half-Saiyan's chest, dead center to his heart.

"_**GOHAN!**_" Her scream made her own ears ring, but she didn't stop. "You bastard! What have you done! _Gohan!_"

But it was no use. All her screaming couldn't bring back the dead. Her eyes locked to his lifeless, bleeding form and she flung herself forward with all her force. The chain binding her right arm broke away and whipped outward, hitting the side of one of the guards before clattering to the floor. She dropped with it, sinking to her knees and stretching as far as she could. Her fingers just barely reached the circle of blood pooling from his body. She pulled her arm back to try reaching again and faintly noted the four red streaks she had left on the stone.

"You should know how to address your king."

She was kicked against the wall. Before she could recognize that it was Vegeta who had struck her, she was standing shakily to her feet. Even after relying heavily on the wall, she could only get her legs to lift her up a fraction of the way so that Vegeta's small height towered over her own when he approached.

"I have no use for deceptive, cunning whores in my palace."

The look in his eyes told her what he was about to do. She would share the same fate as Gohan. It was only fitting, seeing as how she had misled him. He lost his life for her, why should she not lose hers? As the king raised his hand to deliver the finishing blow, one last thought shot across her mind; one that was more shameful and selfish than any she had had yet.

_I don't want to die._

* * *

><p>Today was the day. Today Trunks would board the concubine academy ship with his father and start the grueling process of picking out a new woman to occupy the palace rooms set aside for the royal playthings. How he dreaded these trips above all others. He would rather sit through one of Nappa's battle debriefing and strategy meetings than be forced to sit still as scantily clad woman after scantily clad woman was paraded before him.<p>

"Bra, I want you to stay on the ship."

"But daddy!"

"That's an order."

Trunks looked up at he approached the opening doors of the royal ship. It had successfully docked onto the academy nearly half an hour ago. He had taken that time to appear every bit of the prince he was, adorning his best armor with the family crest carved into the left breastplate and tying his hair back into a low ponytail. And now, as he stood in front of his father, having dismissed an irate Bra, under that harsh, scrutinizing gaze, he felt the nerves automatically square his shoulders and fix his stooped posture for him.

"Your appearance is acceptable."

"Thank you, father," he replied, knowing this was the best compliment he was ever likely to receive from the king.

Vegeta looked like he was about to say more, but the doors had fully opened and the ramp hit the metal floor of the docking bay with a solid click. Both father and son turned to face the welcoming committee that had gathered. Behind a row of grim-faced guards stood a colorful array of women in tight clothing, all batting their eyelashes and giving sweet smiles, trying to catch the prince's attention. The headmistress, walking behind the pair as they descended the ramp, chattered nervously.

"Most of the girls have not been here long enough and their education is not complete. Sire, I assure you that my girls are of top standing, but you must understand if they appear a bit…lacking—"

Vegeta quieted her with his customary flick of the wrist. "I am not interested in these women at the moment. I want you to take me to the traitors."

"My lord?" she asked, a look of panic flicking across her features.

"The two who attempted to escape; I wish to see them," he repeated harshly.

The headmistress bowed her head. "As you wish your highness."

Trunks followed behind, very interested in this turn of events. His father seemed set on the defector and runaway concubine. Usually, he would order them to be executed and never think of them again. In any case, the distraction would delay his own torture.

They were led down several corridors and a few flights of steps until arriving in a brightly-lit hall. The walls were lined with thick, solid doors. These were holding cells for prisoners. They reached the end of the hall before the headmistress swiftly turned to face them.

"Here they are, sire," she said as one of the guards unlocked the door and let it swing open.

At Vegeta's command, four of his own personal men entered the room before him, lighting the cell with flashlights—an invention Bulma had introduced to the Saiyans in place of hazardous, oxygen-consuming torches. Trunks stood in the doorway as his father stepped into the stone room. A strong scent of ammonia and blood halted him from going any further. The carnage he scented was equal to that of any battlefield he had been on. Just how cruel were these people?

He cast his eyes about the cell, his heart dropping at the gruesome sight. There were dark stains all over the floors and the walls; some fresh, some old. Rusting chains were set into the walls. He followed the line of one set until they stopped around the ankles and wrists of a woman.

He tried not to cry out, reminding himself that his father was talking to the turncoat guard but a few feet away. She was in bad shape, this woman. He could tell from looking at her torn clothes and bruised, filth-encrusted flesh that she had suffered abuse far beyond what her delicate body should have been able to handle. It wasn't until she looked at him with fierce green eyes, mouth slightly agape, did he realize how desperate her situation was.

He also saw something in her—something he had never seen in any woman yet. He lost himself to her gaze, trying to puzzle out what about her intrigued him in that moment.

There was a shout and a thump from the other side of the cell. She wrenched her gaze away from him and cried out to the man, Gohan. Vegeta's attention was diverted to her struggling frame. He gave a wicked smile, one Trunks knew all too well. He watched as his father had one of his guards hand him something—a metal book. When had he gotten his hands on that? Whatever it was, it had an instant effect of the woman. She stopped fighting against her chains and sat wide-eyed as the book was thrown to the floor and a voice began speaking from it.

So it was a voice journal, Trunks realized. He tried to listen to the recording as the woman started shouting again. It was obviously hers, and from what he could hear, it was very personal. She clearly didn't want Gohan to know the truth. As Trunks looked up, he understood why. The other Saiyan was destroyed by the confession of betrayal. Whatever in him remained to tie his life to this world, it was shattered in that instant.

The scene turned into chaos. Vegeta obliged the man's broken will by killing him with a quick shot of energy. The woman began screaming bloody murder and managed to break one of her chains, hitting a guard in the process. She had gone feral, clawing and digging at the ground, trying to reach the lifeless Gohan. Her face was scrunched up into the most open and raw look of pain and anguish he had ever seen. The king, having wiped his hands of the gore, turned to address the woman with a swift kick to the ribs. Trunks flinched as she hit the wall with a sickening crack and still fought to stand.

"I have no use for deceptive, cunning whores in my palace."

Trunks realized what his father was going to do. He was going to snuff out that light he had seen earlier. He was going to kill this woman. And for some reason, this bothered Trunks. This bothered him more than any death ever had. He hadn't been given enough time to figure out just what he glimpsed in her. As selfish as it was, he wanted her alive for himself alone, to discover what he had yet come to know.

He stood before his father in a flash, blocking the king from harming the woman. He met Vegeta's surprised gaze with a steady one of his own. He was so close to the girl that he could feel her shivering with the cold and her hot, fevered breath on his shoulder blades.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" Vegeta barked harshly.

"I want this woman, father," he replied coolly. "I will have no other."

Trunks's pulse was racing and he tried not to show his fear. This was the first time he had ever stood up to his father, the first time he had demanded anything. He knew what happened to those who went against the wishes of the Saiyan king. His mind was racing, trying to gauge Vegeta's reaction.

"Ha."

Trunks blinked. Was that a smirk on his father's face?

"Hahahaha!" Vegeta laughed. "To think it took a soiled wench for you to find your backbone!"

He didn't know what to do. He had expected violence, he had expected a fight. He didn't expect his father to clap him on the back and look _pleased_. He stood there, dumbstruck.

"Sern, take the woman to the ship and get her to the medical bay. Now."

The guard Vegeta had addressed nodded once before quickly snapping the girl's remaining chains and lifting her up bridal-style. He walked out of the room, past a shocked headmistress.

"My lord, surely you do not want—"

"My son is quite sure of what he wants," Vegeta interrupted. "Now, bring me the men who were in charge of her care."

She nodded and turned to leave. She was gone for but a moment before four Saiyans marched into the room and bowed on their knees before their king. Trunks watched with a raised eyebrow as Vegeta circled the men.

"You four were the ones who stood guard over the woman prisoner, Avelyn?"

"Yes, milord," one of them answered.

"And you are aware that she was my property and now officially the property of my son?"

This time their response was silence. Trunks looked on with curiosity. What was his father getting at?

"You, men, desecrated the property of your king and prince. You mercilessly defiled what wasn't rightfully yours. Do you understand the severity of your actions?"

"My king, we weren't—"

Vegeta silenced him with a ki blast, much in the manner he had used to kill Gohan. The other three watched in horror as their comrade crumpled to the floor.

"Saiyans? Please, you disgrace your very race."

Vegeta wasted no time ending the lives of the guards. Despite his queasy stomach at seeing so much bloodshed, Trunks couldn't help but feel a little smug. It was clear these men had done vile, unforgivable things to the woman in their care. There was no doubt in his mind that they deserved their fate. But what made him feel self-satisfied was the fact that Vegeta was delivering the punishment. He really wasn't the unfeeling man he pretended to be. Oh sure, he could kill without a second thought, but he was no fan of impunity. He was not killing these men for their crimes against royal property, he was killing them because their rape of the woman disgusted him. He was avenging her.

"Next, Headmistress Sarowyn, I would like to pay a little visit to the creature known as Beta."

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><p><strong>AN: **And so they meet! And the baddies got what they deserved!  
>So glad that's over. Now I can get to everyone's favorite part-the romance. ;D<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **So, I know it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since my last update, but I was so inspired by your guys' reviews that this next chapter practically wrote itself!

Lost of love to **koolkat44**,** akatmandu** and** Kamaria Jay **for your reviews! I was just telling my friend how much I love all of you for your support. You guys are the best! 3

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><p>They had left the academy about an hour ago and now Vegeta paced in the training room, puzzling out his next move. Cooler's forces were moving in fast. The icejin was growing restless with the stalemate they'd been locked in for months. Vegeta's own forces were getting stronger by the day as Saiyans from all classes were training harder than ever to unlock the power of their ancestors. With Bulma's annoying tactics for improving his planet's image, they had a constant stream of allies and supplies flowing into the capital to be processed and shipped out to where they were needed. Fate, it seemed, was turning in favor to the Saiyans.<p>

But still, war was hard.

Vegeta was not a blind king. He could see the affect the battles were having on his people. Despite their growing strength, they were weary. Cooler had proved to be a more ruthless and cunning warlord than his brother. Vegeta knew the fighting had to end soon, and so he was in the final stages of moving his pawns and securing his position for checkmate.

The first move was to take over the academy and turn it into a battleship. It had been a grueling discussion with Sarowyn over which planet to relocate her academy to, the funds they would receive, and how they would be transported. It didn't help that the woman was distraught over the loss of her dear pet Beta. In fact, the headmistress herself had been lucky to survive the day, considering how low Vegeta's tolerance was running after discovering how brutally she treated her prisoners. Torture had never been his choice method of killing. Death was a necessity in these times, yes, but he brought it swiftly to his enemies. It was nothing short of sadistic to drag it out.

There was no honor, no pride to be had in pulling the legs off of an insect simply to watch it squirm.

He heard the soft sound of a door closing and looked up to see the head medic, a short, green-skinned reptile, walk towards him on bare, pointed feet. He kept his eyes diverted and his head low as he approached the king. The white tuft of hair attached to his head swayed wistfully with every step, amusing Vegeta almost as much as the creature's flicking tongue.

"What is it, Lizain?"

The medic, Lizain, bowed. "My lord, I have examined the girl and am here to give you a report, as you requested." Like any reptile, he spoke with a distinctive hiss, making him somewhat difficult to understand.

"Get on with it, then," Vegeta replied, halting in his pacing to better focus on the lizard's words.

"Her major injuries were few; a cracked pelvis, three broken ribs, a fractured cheekbone. Many of the lesions covering her body were severely infected and upon further testing I discovered blood poisoning along with a host of various diseases, no doubt the aftermath of the forced intercourse. But what was most surprising was the embryo in her uterus."

Vegeta looked at the medic in bewilderment.

"It was barely out of the zygote stage, my lord, as she was held prisoner for but a few days. It was easily taken care of with proper medication. But it was unusual with how quickly she became pregnant. It is known that the concubine academies have their women take contraception drugs. The drugs should have still been in her system to prevent such a thing."

"Never mind that," Vegeta said, not caring how unusual the circumstances were so long as the thing was taken care of. "What of her injuries? The diseases? You have taken care of them as well?"

"Yes, sire. I modified the regeneration tank cycle to fully heal and clean her system. She should be arriving at Prince Trunks's chambers presently, the very picture of health."

The king nodded his approval. He dismissed the medic and resumed his pacing. He let his thoughts wonder to the woman his son had been so adamant on obtaining. He had seen for himself the fight in her. She was strong to have broken the chain binding her wrist. And she was passionate. Vegeta let himself hope that she would be the one to awaken his son's spark with her own. There was a lot of power in that boy, but he was still just a boy. He would need to become a man before his full potential was realized.

"Bra," he suddenly called to the quiet room. As he had expected, his teenage daughter stepped out from her hiding place behind a far pillar.

"Yes, daddy?" she asked in a sweet voice. She tried to appear as innocent as could be, but he knew she had been listening intently to the entire exchange.

"I want you to keep an eye on Trunks and his new concubine."

"Daddy, you don't mean spying, do you?" There was a flicker of excitement in her blue eyes, so much like her mother's.

"In a sense, yes," he answered. "Just make sure he doesn't screw this up as well."

Bra clapped her hands together in excitement. "You can count on me! Bra, expert matchmaker and connoisseur of love!" She winked and stuck her tongue out before running from the room with an excited hop to her step.

Vegeta sighed. What, exactly, had he just unleashed?

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><p>Avelyn opened her eyes as she felt cold air hit her exposed body. She wiped pastel blue gunk from her face as the pod she was in opened. She looked around and realized she was in a regeneration tank. She sat still as two lizard-like creatures in white uniforms removed the many plugs stuck on her body before they helped her from the tank. Why was she in one of those Saiyan contraptions?<p>

She watched wide-eyed as she was handed a thin white towel and shoved out the door. Before she had the towel completely wrapped around her naked body, a large hand encircled her forearm and began pulling her forward. She looked up at the tall Saiyan guard. His jaw was set in determination, as if he was willing himself not to look down at her.

She was pushed through a doorway and into a neat, white room. The door slid shut behind her and she looked around at her new surroundings. She walked past a couch and matching arm chair to look out a small circular window set into the metal wall. Her gaze was met with the empty blackness of space. She backed up in shock. She was on a spaceship? How?

The fact was, as hard as she tried, she couldn't remember. She recalled eating breakfast that morning as she always did, with Auntie chatting away in her ear. After that, she made plans to go over her latest act for the shows next week, and then… nothing. Her mind was blank.

A thick strand of hair fell into her face and she realized she was still covered in the thick, sticky regen fluid. She sighed and looked around the room until she spotted a small dresser standing in the corner. After wiping her hands off on her towel, she dug around in the drawers, shocked to find nothing but men's clothing; training spandex, large, baggy pants, black shirt after black shirt. Looking through the bottom drawer, she paused in surprise. She lifted up a long-sleeved, white button-up shirt. It looked startlingly familiar to the clothes back on her home planet. She snatched up a pair of boxers to go with the shirt and tried the only other door besides the one she had come through.

Success! It was the bathroom. She examined the shower and was delighted to find it was similar to the one in the tiny apartment she had shared with the woman who had raised her. She let the towel slip from her body and gratefully entered the hot jet of water. She lathered shampoo into her hair, scrunching her nose at the scent. It wasn't unpleasant; it just wasn't the floral aroma she was used to. It was by no means a soap meant for a woman.

As she went to scrub away the remaining regeneration tank fluid covering her body, she sighed. How had she ended up here? And how would she get back home? She was in the hands of the Saiyans, there was no doubt about that. They were known were take concubines and mistresses, but this usually meant going through one of the many training academies set up all over the universe. She hadn't really been taken straight from her planet, had she?

She turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a new towel from the rack over the toilet and drying off quickly. The material of the boxers was soft. She slid the shirt over her shoulders and buttoned only three buttons in the middle, leaving her navel exposed. The sleeves were way too long, hanging just above her fingertips. She walked out into the main room, running her fingers through her hair. It was full of tangles. She picked up the brush she had seen on the bedside table and tried pulling it through the red mess on her head. She pulled harder and harder, growling in frustration, as the tangles refused to give.

The sound of the door sliding open behind her made her spin around. Standing there, mirroring her look of astonishment, was the Saiyan prince. Her hand dropped to her side and she was too distracted to notice that the brush stayed entangled in her hair. She simply stared at him, unsure of what to do. Why was she in the prince's room!

"I, uhm…" The prince trailed, off, averting his eyes as a blush colored his face.

Avelyn opened her mouth to apologize, but abruptly closed it when no sound came out. She tried again and only succeeded with a distressed grunt. Prince Trunks looked at her again, this time with puzzlement. She reached up and felt her throat hesitantly. It was still there, still in one piece. Nothing felt wrong, but she couldn't speak.

"Are you okay?"

She was stunned to hear the genuine tone to his voice. He actually sounded concerned. She just shook her head in response, trying not to panic. No, she most certainly was not okay. Her voice was gone! What had they done to her while she was in the regeneration tank! She couldn't remember how she got on this ship, only waking up in the regeneration tank. Surely they could have done something and forced her to forget!

She was breathing rapidly, her eyes darting to and fro. She forgot about being calm. Her mind had been tampered with without her knowledge! She flinched as a pair of hands placed themselves on her shoulders. She looked up into the eyes of the prince, who now stood over her, his lips pointed down into a worried frown.

"Your name is Avelyn, right?"

She nodded dumbly. His voice was low, a hushed rumble that ran up and down her spine, leaving chills. His blue eyes were mesmerizing and reminded her of someone she had known once. She couldn't recall his name or when or even where she had met him, but there was no doubt that she had seen the look in Trunks's eyes before, from someone else.

"Avelyn, I want you to try speaking again, can you do that?"

She obliged and opened her mouth once again. Still, no words, no intelligent sounds. Trunks nodded and let her go. She stumbled back and her knees hit the bed, causing her to sit down heavily on the neat white covers. She watched him carefully, feeling like a child as he paced back and forth in front of her.

"It's common in cases of trauma for an individual to lose the capability of speech," he explained. The thumb of his right hand was tapping out a rhythm on his chin while his left hand was behind his back. "Usually, this is coupled with memory suppression…"

Avelyn took this time while he was distracted with mumbling to himself to study him. He was only a few inches taller than her, his body stacked with muscles, but still remained lithe and agile. His pale violet hair was falling out of its low ponytail and hung straight. He slid his armor over his head absent-mindedly and slipped on a black shirt that had been hanging over the back of the couch. He then pulled on a pair of baggy black pants over his small blue tights. She approved of this look more than the other one. It suited him much better.

She raised an eyebrow when he glanced at her, having no clue what he was talking about. Trauma? Suppressed memories? Could it be true? Had something happened to her that had caused her to lose the ability to talk? Her eyes widened with fear again.

"But, these things can be recovered," he added, seeing her expression. "There's not much you can actively do. You just have to let it happen on its own."

She nodded, deciding to trust him. Though her purpose for being there was unclear to her, he appeared to have no interest in harming her. In fact, he seemed to be concerned. Besides, she was stuck on this floating metal heap in the middle of space without any way to effectively communicate. She was helpless.

Avelyn reached up and felt the brush handle. She growled again and tried dislodging it from her hair. Her eyes began to tear up as she yanked at her scalp.

"Here, let me do it."

She let go of the brush as she felt Trunks's weight on the mattress behind her. He took the brush in his hands and, after a few seconds of gentle tugging, freed it and began pulling it through her hair. He had her waves of red unraveled in minutes. She turned to look at him. He shrugged.

"I live with two women. I can't tell you how many times I had to braid Bra's hair for her growing up," he laughed.

Avelyn felt herself smile. She had heard that Trunks was kind, but she had been reluctant to believe it. Now as she sat next to him, looking at his shy grin and unsure posture, she knew that he was only Saiyan by birth, but human in nature. He was nothing like the brute his father was said to be. It seemed his mother had had more of an influence on him than the king.

Perhaps it would not be such a bad thing to be stuck with him.

* * *

><p>Trunks froze as the girl slumped back. Her head hit his shoulder and he realized that she had fallen asleep sometime while he had been brushing her hair. He tried not to jostle her too much as he stood up and tucked her under the covers of his bed. He looked at her sleeping face; at her full lips that were parted slightly, the thick lashes that brushed her cheeks, and the gentle red waves that spread out against the white backdrop of the pillow. She had not looked like this when he had seen her in the cell. Not at all.<p>

He swallowed the lump building in his throat and quickly turned from her to sit on the couch. He thought over everything as he stared at the far wall. She couldn't speak. That much was evident. He knew from his studies that this kind of psychological problem came with traumas like the one she had endured. Chances were, she was also repressing the memories of that trauma. He would have to find some way to gauge the depths of her disorder without needlessly upsetting her. She was no doubt fragile in both mind and body. Even the tiniest distress could end badly for her.

He bit on his bottom lip as he tried to think of what to do. He had thought at the time that he was saving her life, but was he really? She was now mute and as terrified as a caged bird. She was vulnerable and he was taking her straight into a war-torn lifestyle. Surely, that was not mercy as it should be.

He looked back to her peacefully sleeping frame and sighed. No, what he had done had been selfish and he had been fully aware of it all the while. Some part of him had wanted that girl—a part big enough to make him reach out and take her.

But now that he had her, what was he to do with her?

He stretched out on the couch and laced his fingers behind his head. There would be time to figure that out on the trip back. Plenty of time.

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><p><strong>AN:** Well, well, well, what have we here? A little twist? Hahaha, I love those.

And finally! Some Ave/Trunks interaction! I haven't written or read an overly-adorable, cutesy romance in awhile, so I think this story might begin to sway that way. But don't worry! There will be plenty of action!... of all sorts. ;D


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** 21 comments guys. 21. For only eight chapters! You guys are the greatest.

**akatmandu**, **koolkat44**, **Kamaria Jay**, and **Viva la Amore**, you four are my favorites. 3

There's something I'd like to explain before you read this next chapter. Toriyama's Earth in nothing like our Earth, yes? I mean, there's capsules that hold whatever you can dream of, dinosaurs, and all sorts of neat things. So I decided to pattern Lorine after _our_ Earth, the real one. Keep this is mind when Avelyn talks about her home planet. ^_^

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><p>Avelyn woke up to the sound of an alarm. She flipped over and found the source of the high-pitched noise—a digital alarm clock on the bedside table. She hit the device until she chanced across the button that turned it off. Re-closing her eyes, she tried to go back to sleep. Slowly, her mind recalled all that had happened the day before; of where she was now, how she had lost the ability to speak and the strangely kind Saiyan prince whose bed she was currently snuggled in.<p>

She sat up and groaned. She hadn't really slept with him, had she? Auntie had always told her she was too trusting… Relief flooded through her when she looked up and caught sight of Trunks's silhouette stretched out on the couch. The alarm had to have been going of for a reason, right? With this thought in mind, she untangled herself from the sheets and padded across the room to stand over the sleeping prince. She bit her bottom lip, trying to decide how best to wake him up. With no voice, she couldn't simply call his name until he heard her.

There was a little room at the edge of the couch by his stomach, so she sat down, instantly grateful for the heat that was radiating from his body. The clothes she currently wore offered little by way of insulation. She looked back at Trunks and sighed. He looked so calm. With this peaceful look to use as comparison, she noticed just how troubled his features were yesterday. The furrow between his brows had smoothed, the frown tugging at the corners of his lips were gone, and the tension was gone from his shoulders. It would be a shame to coax him out of his dreams.

Avelyn placed one hand on his chest and gave an experimental shove. He groaned and turned his head. She smiled and tickled his ribs next. This earned her an involuntary spasm of his body and a groggy "wassisit?" from him. Her grin widened. He really was just a normal person after all. But, the time for playing games was over. The alarm was starting to go off again and she was tired of hearing it. So, she walked over to where it sat on the table, picked it up, and stood over Trunks once again with the clock in her hands. Once it reached full screaming volume, she held it down by his ear.

His reaction was immediate. He sat straight up and looked around frantically before losing his balance and tumbling to the floor. Avelyn had stumbled back and now sat on the arm of the chair. She had covered her mouth with the back of her hand and was laughing, though no sound came out. The alarm clock was still going off from where she had dropped it at her feet. Trunks blinked up at her, dazed for a moment before he too grinned and chuckled lightly.

"You thought that was funny, huh?"

Nearly doubled over with amusement, Avelyn nodded. She tried to calm herself, but couldn't when the image of his face, so startled and shocked, popped into her mind again. She felt tears well up in her eyes with the effort of her silent laughter.

In the meantime, Trunks had gotten up and turned the alarm clock off. "I'm glad you're enjoying it, because my father won't when I arrive to practice so late."

At the mention of the king, Avelyn found it much easier to compose herself. She looked at him with somber eyes, suddenly very sorry for her cheerful mood. She tried to imagine an irate Saiyan king, but found it too terrible a thought to dwell on. Trunks took note of her abrupt change and smiled again.

"No, no, you did nothing wrong," he assured. "In fact, I should really thank you. If you hadn't woken me up, there's no telling how much later I would have slept."

She glanced up from her focus on the strand of hair she had been playing with to give him a halfhearted smile. She didn't know why, but she suddenly felt very small in his presence. It felt as though she were a child again and Auntie was explaining to her that she could look at the snakes Charmer kept in glass cases, but she could never, ever touch them. She looked back to the floor as the memory filled her thoughts. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the worried look on Auntie's face and pretty patterns of the venomous snakes she had so desperately wanted to touch…

"Avelyn, I'm going now, but I'll be back soon. I'll have a servant send up breakfast."

The sound of Trunks's voice snapped her from her reverie. It took her a moment to come back to reality. She wasn't a little girl growing up in the slums of Buffalo, New York. She was a young woman on a Saiyan royal ship where they had servants bring them breakfast. She shook her head to clear it and then nodded at the prince, giving him one last smile before he disappeared through the sliding door.

* * *

><p>Trunks sighed as the door to his room closed behind him. He set off down the hallway, his mind distracted by one image alone. No matter how he tried, he couldn't shake the picture of Avelyn from his thoughts. He had thought she was stunning last night, but that was merely a hollow façade of the true beauty she was when she smiled. He could only imagine what he laughter would sound like when her voice returned…<p>

That's right, she couldn't speak. All the psychology books of his mother's that he had read growing up explained the various effects trauma could have on a person's brain, but they often had no straightforward solutions. The mind was a tricky, delicate thing. He didn't know where to begin to find help for her.

Speaking of help, Trunks made a sudden detour to the kitchens. He had promised Avelyn breakfast. When he arrived at the level of the ship's kitchens, he was surprised to see Bra there as well.

"Hey, big bro, what're you doing here?" she asked happily, giving him an uncharacteristic smile. Hadn't she been upset for most of the ride to the academy? Why the sudden change?

"I, uh, have to feed the girl," he replied lamely.

"Ooh, Avelyn, right?" Bra continued, "Don't worry about a thing, dear brother! I'll take her meal to her!"

Trunks tried to resist when Bra started pushing him back up the steps he had just come from.

"You better go meet daddy before he gets angry that you're late again."

"Wait Bra, stop it," he demanded.

"Seriously, no worries! I got everything under control!"

"No, you don't understand," he insisted, swiveling around to face her. "I don't care if you take the food to her, but you should know something first." He grabbed his sister by the arms and forced her to look at him. She was being incredibly pushy today.

"Oh, is this about the baby?"

Trunks snorted. "Baby? What baby?"

Bra paused shortly before giving a loud chuckle. "Haha, fooled you! What baby? Hehehe."

He shook his head, deciding to blame her odd behavior for her strange words. "Listen, she can't talk. I think she's repressing memories, but I don't know how many. So watch your tongue in case something you might say upsets her."

His little sister nodded resolutely. "Got it, bro."

"Good," he replied. "Now I've got to go train. Be careful," he warned once more before speeding off to his daily session with his father.

Trunks arrived at the training room seconds after his parting words to Bra. He entered to find the king staring right at him. "You're late," he growled, as he usually did every day. Trunks had a bad habit of sleeping in.

"My apologies, father. I was up rather late last night and didn't hear my alarm this morning." Trunks braced himself for Vegeta's retort, but was shocked to hear silence instead.

"Just be sure to make a better effort tomorrow, boy."

Trunks barely had time to register Vegeta's words before he had to focus on blocking a powerful high kick. He jumped back and lowered himself into his customary fighting stance and watched as his father did the same. Was it his imagination, or was the king in high spirits as well? Something peculiar was going on in the ship, that was for sure.

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><p>"Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?"<p>

Bra rolled her eyes at herself when she realized that of course someone was in the room, someone who couldn't reply to her call. She placed the heavy tray she carried on the coffee table and glanced around the room, looking for the girl. She spotted a river of curling red hair on the bed and followed its trail to the head of a striking young woman. Her pastel green eyes were staring at Bra and she had curled herself up in the corner of the bed as if she were afraid.

"I brought you breakfast," she said, gesturing to the tray. The girl's eyes flicked to the food once and she sidled to the edge of the mattress. "It's really yummy. I insisted that our top chef come with us. She makes the best pancakes."

To Bra's delight, Avelyn smiled warmly at her and stood to cross the room. She sat on the couch and picked up the stack of pancakes and dug in. Poor thing, she probably hadn't been fed since she got out of the regen tank. And those awful nutrition tubes barely did anything to fill you up anyway. Just look at her clothes, too! She was wearing Trunk's spare Earth clothing. Why, Bra was willing to bet that no one even thought to fetch the girl's things because they were in such a hurry to leave the academy. She probably had nothing to wear at all.

"I know!" she exclaimed suddenly. Avelyn looked up from her meal and syrup dribbled over her chin. "I'll take you shopping with me when we get to Greydon Station! Oh, you'll love it! There are so many cute little boutiques with all the latest fashions! I can fill your wardrobe out in no time!"

Avelyn rewarded her with another smile. Yes, she could see what Trunks was so worried about. His new concubine looked so innocent, unlike the rest of them. She didn't seem to be aware of what she was or what her purpose happened to be. She was simply a Lorinite girl amongst Saiyan royalty. Poor thing.

"You know, Trunks is fairly taken with you," Bra began as Avelyn finished her food. The latter sat back and cocked her head in silent question. "He normally doesn't bother to remember the names of his women, but he sure learned yours fast." Bra returned her smiles with one of her own. Now was the perfect time to start playing matchmaker, as her father had asked.

Avelyn's blank look told Bra to explain.

"His concubines," she clarified. "He usually can't be bothered with them, but he seems pretty interested in you. Did you know you were the first woman he ever asked for? In fact, he demanded to have you."

The redhead raised her eyebrows. Bra took this as a sign of her interest, so she continued.

"Oh yes, he has his eye on you, you can be sure of that." She gave the girl a parting wink before picking up the tray and retreating back into the hallway. She'd just let Avelyn think about their conversation until Trunks got back from training. What girl wouldn't fall head-over-heels for a guy who so passionately claimed her? The thought sent blissful shivers down Bra's spine. If only a boy would fight like that for _her… _

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><p>Avelyn sat in silence after Bra left. The princess's words echoed in her head. It's not like she couldn't have guessed why she happened to be in Trunks's room on a ship rocketing through space. The only logical explanation was that she was a concubine who had been sold, she knew that. But that didn't mean she wanted to admit it to herself. She didn't want to face the fact that she was someone else's property and no longer her own person.<p>

The door opened again and Avelyn watched as Trunks limped into the room. He was breathing heavy and his body looked like it had taken a serious beating. Before she knew what she was doing, she had jumped up and ducked under his arm, allowing him to place some of his weight on her. She helped him to the couch and had no choice but to sit down slowly beside him so he didn't collapse all at once. Once safely on the cushion, his arm slid down from her shoulders to rest limply in the small space between her back and the couch.

"Thanks," he sighed, giving her a weak smile.

Avelyn leaned in close to inspect a bruise on his cheek. She tilted his chin towards her and gently prodded the swelling dark mark with her fingertips. She closed her eyes and shook her head. What had he done to land himself in this shape?

He took her hands in his own and removed them from his face. "I'm okay, really," he said. "I was just training. I've had worse injuries before."

She looked into his blue eyes, determining for herself if he was really all right or lying to spare her feelings. But, she thought to herself, why would he want to spare her feelings? She was just a possession, right? Her face fell as the thought sank in.

"Hey, what's wrong? I said I was okay."

She averted her gaze from his concerned half-smile. He sounded way too kind for someone who bought women who had been kidnapped from their home worlds. Avelyn wasn't sure what to do or believe. She felt some sort of warmth towards the Saiyan prince for how caring he had been since she woke from the regeneration tank, but there was doubt in her heart too. She shouldn't feel anything but hatred towards the race that enslaved others and killed without a second thought, right?

She spotted a napkin on the table that was left from her breakfast and, coincidentally, a pen was sitting next to it. She snatched them up and scrawled carefully on the thin paper to avoid ripping it.

_Concubine?_

She thrust the napkin under Trunks's nose and chewed on her bottom lip as she watched him read the word she had written. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before exhaling slowly.

"I take it Bra was quite chatty," he muttered, cracking one eye open to look at her. Despite herself, Avelyn grinned at his exasperated tone. "You were being held prisoner at a concubine training academy, yes. When I saw you in that cell, chained to the walls like some animal…"

He trailed off and Avelyn felt the hand behind her curl into a fist. His sudden anger astonished her. So she had been a captive at an academy and he had rescued her. She studied his face again. He still had his eyes closed and his head was tilted back, resting on the top ledge of the couch. This man had saved her from a prison she couldn't remember and, according to his sister, had demanded she be taken with them. This thought filled her with a lazy kind of delight for some reason.

Avelyn leaned against his side, easily fitting into the crook of his body. His arm instinctively curled around her waist and she swung her feet up onto the empty cushions behind her. His breathing steadily slowed and soon she could tell that he had fallen asleep. She felt herself nodding off too, though she had woken up only a few hours ago. She had never felt so warm or comfortable in her own bed, let alone in someone's arms. She smiled to herself. This man had saved her life.

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><p><strong>AN:** A little Stockholm syndrome going on, too. :D Poor young woman who can't speak or remember anything, so she clings to the one thread of kindness shown to her, which just so happens to be an awkward Saiyan prince who is uneasy with his life of war and battling...

Oh the romance! 3


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I stayed up all night writing this chapter and it's now past six in the morning, so you better love me! :D

Much love to **akatmandu**, **Viva la Amore**, and **Mayra** for your reviews on the last chapter! They inspired me to write this one. I would also like to thank **CITCAT826 **for adding this story to your alerts. :)

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><p>Avelyn had been on the ship for an entire week, as best as she could tell. She had woken up to the sound of Trunks's alarm seven times and had gone to bed an equal amount of times. This morning would mark the eighth day of her stay on the ship. They all passed in the same manner: She would wake Trunks up, just as she was doing now, by roughly shaking his shoulder until he sat up. After he left her to meet his father for training, breakfast would show up. Sometimes Bra brought it and sometimes it was carried in on a cart by a lizard-like servant. Today, she would enjoy peace and quiet while she ate because she knew Bra had been forced to join the morning training session.<p>

Sure enough, not ten minutes had passed since Trunks left before a blue-skinned kitchen servant entered the room. Avelyn ate the omelet slowly, thinking over the past several days. Not once had she left this room, though she never asked to either. Trunks had been kind enough to produce a blank notebook and pen so they could communicate in some form. They had held lengthy conversations with her scribbling her side, quickly eating up the paper with her questions, and with him speaking his responses aloud. She had come to love the sound of his voice, how it reverberated off the metal walls and wrapped her in its charming tone. After all, it belonged to the man who had freed her from her captivity.

Captivity. She had wondered about the circumstances of her imprisonment and how she had come to be locked up in a cell in a concubine training academy, but had hesitated every time she started writing the question down. She would recall how livid Trunks had become when he first mentioned it and she feared upsetting him again. Plus, she knew the answers were in the memories she had lost and a foreboding feeling of sickness and dread washed over her when she tried to penetrate the wall she felt in her mind. The answers were behind that block, she knew, but she was frightened of the truth.

Suddenly losing her appetite, Avelyn set her plate back on the tray. She nodded as the servant bowed and collected the dishes before leaving the room. Now she could enjoy the next routine of her day; a hot shower. She was still wearing the clothes out of the dresser she had learned Trunks reserved for the clothes from his mother's home planet. She wouldn't be able to wear clothes that were bought for her and not a man until they reached Greydon Station next week. She dug through the dresser and selected an oversized tee-shirt and a pair of the boxers she had grown accustomed to wearing. She took the clothes into the bathroom with her and placed them on the sink.

Then came her favorite part; the actual shower. She stood under the stream of water and closed her eyes. There was something about the twenty minutes she spent standing in the white porcelain tub that made her feel like she was silent because she was simply enjoying the sound of the water running over her body and drumming against her eyelids instead of the frustrating quiet she endured because she couldn't speak.

She bent down to grab the bottle of fruity soap that Bra had given her and paused. The water running down the drain at her feet was pink, not clear as it should be. She looked around for the source of the color. The soap bottle was still standing upright and there were no bubbles to suggest that it had spilled. In fact, now that she got a closer look, it seemed like the water was pinkest—almost red—at her feet. She touched the inside of her leg at the knee and her hand came away scarlet.

This wasn't right, she thought. She shouldn't be bleeding unless… unless… Her eyes widened in realization. She really had no clue when her last period had been or when her next would should begin because she wasn't sure how much time she had lost in between the skip of her memories. Still, she felt this amount of blood wasn't normal, even for her worst periods. And she had experienced none of the usual warning signs—no cramps, headaches, cravings, nothing. The nauseous feeling in her stomach told her that this wasn't normal, but her mind rationalized that there was nothing else this could be. She was held as a prisoner. Perhaps the stress of the event was simply taxing on her body. It would sort itself out.

She succeeded in calming herself down enough to finish her shower. It wasn't until she was drying off did she realize that she had none of the necessary items to handle a period. She could either wait and see if Bra showed up tomorrow morning to ask her if she could spare some pads, or breach the subject with Trunks. She grimaced at that thought. It would certainly embarrass the prince more than it would her. But she also didn't want to keep stuffing her underwear, borrowed from Bra, with the only thing currently available to her—toilet paper.

She walked out of the bathroom to find Trunks already sitting on the couch. The training session quit unusually early and her raised eyebrows spoke her thought for her.

"Bra," Trunks offered as explanation. "She threw a fit and nearly destroyed the training room."

Avelyn nodded and picked up her notebook. She hesitated for only a second before she made up her mind and decided to ask him for help.

_Speaking of Bra, can you ask her a favor for me?_

He read the sentence quickly before he handed the notebook back to her. "Um, sure. What is it?"

She sat across from him in the armchair and not her normal spot at his side. She knew he could tell there was something going on then, so there was no turning back now.

_I started my period and I need __you know._

She underlined the last part, hoping he understood her euphemism. He didn't respond right away after reading her request. Instead, he placed the notebook on the coffee table and took a long drink from his cold water bottle. When he had screwed the cap back on, twisting long after it was closed tight, he stood to his feet.

"I can—I can go ask," he said finally.

Avelyn tried not to smirk at the uncomfortable look on his face as he left the room. She hadn't meant right that minute, but the situation had made him as uneasy as she thought it would. Men, it seemed, were embarrassed by anything that had to do with a vagina outside of sex and Trunks was no exception.

She rolled her eyes and leaned back in the chair. For the heir to the throne of one of the strongest races in all the known universes, he really was just a naive young man…

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><p>Trunks knocked on the door to his sister's room. He stood nervously in the hall, ready to run in case her foul mood from the morning still remained. The door slid open and he stepped through, instantly assaulted by the bright colors of the room. Bra had done her best to undo the uniform whiteness of the rest of the ship by decorating her quarters with loud embellishments. Posters and magazine clippings were taped to the walls, fuzzy rugs were thrown haphazardly onto the floor, and neon blankets were draped over the furniture. Sitting in the middle of this dismembered rainbow was Bra, who was lying on her stomach on a couch, reading one of the fashion magazines she was so fond of.<p>

"What do you want?" she asked blandly, not bothering to look up from her inspection of an evening gown.

Trunks scratched his head, thinking of just how to phrase his question. "Well, you see, Avelyn is having… womanly issues." He could feel the heat rise in his face with every word and mentally berated himself for sounding so childish.

"You mean her period?" Bra clarified, unabashed with talking about what Trunks considered a delicate topic.

"Yeah…"

"That's impossible," she continued. "According to her records, her next cycle isn't supposed to happen for three more weeks."

"Excuse me?" he asked, puzzled by the statement.

Bra gave an exasperated sigh. "Her records. From the academy." She reached over to the coffee table and grabbed a manila folder, identical to the ones she had given him before they had reached the academy. She tossed it to him and he caught it easily.

"You mean…"

"They keep detailed records about every girl in the academy? Yes, they do. They even document things such as menstrual cycles. They're extremely thorough."

"But…"

"Besides," she went on, not letting him get a word in edgewise. She was clearly still hot-tempered. "It's probably her body rejecting the fetus."

Trunks wasn't sure he had heard right at first. But as Bra suddenly sat up, a look of shock across her face as her hand shot to cover her mouth, he knew he hadn't. She had said something she had obviously not meant to, something as shocking as mentioning an unborn child.

"I mean, I mean…" she stammered, grasping for straws.

"What exactly do you mean, Bra?" he asked, using a tone he hardly ever used—one to let her know that he was serious and wouldn't put up for her usual horseplay.

"All right," she sighed, giving up. "I was listening when Lizain was giving daddy a report on the girl. He mentioned something about a fetus being barely developed from the zygote stage and having 'taken care' of it with medication."

Trunks didn't reply. He stood there, dumbstruck with the realization of what those men had done to Avelyn. He was unexpectedly mad with hatred towards those insects and, if his father hadn't already done away with them, he felt he would have taken a space pod right then and there to kill them himself.

"What she's mistaken as her period is probably the effects of the medication. The fetus is dead and now her body is expelling it," Bra rambled on, nervous at her brother's sudden change of mood. "I read up on the medication Lizain mentioned. Though it takes a few days to kick in, it works the system quickly. She'll probably experience one or two heavy bouts of bleeding and that will be it."

Trunks registered her words, but still didn't respond. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over. He turned on his heel and reentered the hallway, not meeting the eyes of any of the guards positioned at regular intervals along the corridors. It seemed he had a new set of problems dealing with Avelyn. How exactly would he tell her without upsetting her memories? Finding himself standing outside his own door for the second time today, he supposed there were none. He couldn't exactly not tell her the truth, could he?

He braced himself and entered the room. Avelyn was where he left her, sitting on the armchair. Her head was back and her eyes closed. She didn't seem to notice his presence. It wasn't until he was kneeling on the ground in front of her and had taken her hands in his did she finally look down at him. One of her eyebrows rose in question.

"Ave," he began, using the nickname she had told him she liked. "There's something I have to tell you, but it'll be hard to hear. Just bear with me, okay?"

She nodded and squeezed his fingers with her own.

"I told you that you were being held prisoner, right?" He waited for her to nod again before he continued. "Well, the men who were supposed to be guarding you… they—they _raped_ you." He spat out the word, feeling the distaste it left on his tongue. "Apparently, you are—were," he corrected himself, "—pregnant with a child, but not anymore."

He hesitantly brought his gaze up to meet hers. Her mouth was agape with horror and her brow was furrowed with sorrow or misunderstanding, he couldn't tell exactly which.

"When Lizain, the medic, examined you a week ago, he gave you some sort of drug that was supposed to terminate the pregnancy. What you think is your period is really your body forcing out the dead fetus. It might happen one other time, but that's it."

She was shaking. Tears had welled up in her eyes and spilled over to fall into her tangles of damp hair. With one trembling hand, she gestured to her notebook. Trunks hastily handed it and a pen to her and watched with troubled eyes as she began to write.

"Avelyn, I'm so sorry," he said as she wrote. "My father already punished the men who hurt you; otherwise I swear I would have avenged you myself—"

He was cut off as she pushed the notebook towards him. He took it and scanned the page, already full of her scrawling handwriting, until he found the new ink.

_Thank you for telling me. I appreciate your honesty. I cannot remember the pain of what those men did to me. I would have had no idea what was going on with my own body if you hadn't told me and I am grateful._

_ It saddens me to know that someone had created a child in me and someone else has taken it away, all without my knowledge. An innocent life, here and gone so quickly. That is what makes me sad, not the crimes of the men. _

He finished reading and barely had time to react before he found a mass of red hair and smooth flesh thrown into his lap and clinging around his neck. He wrapped his arms around the girl who had wormed her way inside his mind from the very moment he had laid eyes on her. As he held her quivering frame close, he came to understand how close she was to worming her way inside of his heart as well.

"Oh Avelyn," he breathed. It must take an extremely forgiving person to weep over the child created by such despicable means—extremely forgiving and pure-hearted.

He held her until she had cried herself out. When she sniffed and went to wipe her eyes on the shirt she was wearing, he offered her a tissue from the box behind him on the table instead. She took it and blew her nose, giving him a weak smile.

"Are you okay?" he asked, tucking her unruly bangs behind her ears.

Avelyn nodded before untangling herself from him and standing up. She stretched and wiped her eyes once again. Trunks got to his feet as well and watched her wearily. She grabbed her notebook from the floor and began writing again.

_I'm sorry I cried all over your shoulder._

"No problem," he chuckled.

_It's just that there are so many things I don't remember. Some of them, I feel I don't want to know. But some of them, I have to know._

"I understand," he agreed.

_Do you think learning about what I can't recall would help me get my voice back?_

He pondered the question for a moment. "I'm not sure. It could be, but it also could be that something completely unrelated to any of your lost memories could trigger the recovery of your voice. It could be something major or something minor. The fact is that we won't know until it happens."

_So I'm stuck like this until who-knows-when?_

He gave her a sympathetic frown. "It seems like it. But we could always try therapy when we get back to the castle. I'm sure we could find a doctor that could help you."

Avelyn gave him a hopeful look. _You really think so?_

He nodded. "Sure I do."

She seemed satisfied enough with that answer and sat at the edge of the bed. He followed and took a seat at the desk that was stationed at the bed's foot. As prince of the Saiyans, he had not only a lot of training to do, but mountains of paperwork. The documents consisted mostly of pre-typed thank you letters to the various planets and races lending them aid in the war, but no matter how many he signed, they grew steadily each day. Avelyn had taken the role his mother usually occupied—urging him to perform his royal duty and watch him like a hawk to make sure he delivered. But, unlike his mother, Avelyn helped speed the process along by chatting to him through her notes.

_Do you have any normal training equipment?_

He read the writing that had interrupted him halfway through a particularly boring report on the efforts of the Chidon people.

"You mean like weights and stuff?" He glanced at her and she nodded once. "Sure. But why?"

_I've been sitting around for a week in this small room. I was wondering if I could go with you tomorrow morning. I won't be a problem, promise. I just want to do _something.

"I think I can make that happen," he replied. He was momentarily stunned when Avelyn leaned over to kiss him on the cheek as a thank you. He cleared his throat. "Right, well, I've got a lot of paperwork to do…"

He knew that if he looked at her, she'd be smiling that impish smile of hers that made his heart hit his stomach. It really was astounding how quickly she had grown on him, how easy it was sitting next to her and talking to her for hours on end. He had never been this attached to someone before, besides his immediate family. It was nice to feel this way for someone. Though it was also dangerous, he thought. He had witnessed for himself on more than one occasion how quickly precious things could be taken away and Avelyn was indeed precious to him.

When Trunks looked up next, dinner was being wheeled into his room. Avelyn stood up to join him on the couch as the servant laid the plates before them.

"Thank you," Trunks began, his voice rough with what must have been hours of disuse. "I will call for you when we are finished."

He dug into his meal, grateful for the distraction from the paperwork and his own thoughts. He looked over at Avelyn to find her ignoring her food to dutifully scribble on the cover of her notebook.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked.

She held up one finger, telling him to hold on a moment, before she resumed her scribbling. After several more minutes, she smiled and set her notebook aside, apparently satisfied with her work. Trunks waited until they had both finished eating and the plates had been cleared away before asking her what she had been doing. She held the cheap, spiral-bound pad of paper out to him and beamed proudly. She had drawn the words "Avelyn's Voice" in thick, curling black letters on the orange cover. There also appeared to be various items drawn around the words—a heart here, a star there, etc.

Trunks laughed. "That's very clever."

This earned him a bright smile before she went back to her doodling. He left her like that, curled up on the couch, as he left for his second training session of the day.

When he returned many hours later (Vegeta had wanted to make up for the time they had lost in the morning.), Avelyn was fast asleep on the couch. Her notebook lay forgotten on the floor as she snored lightly. Trunks shook his head and picked her up gently to put her on the bed. Just as he was about to pull the covers over her, she reached up and grasped the material of his shirt. Her eyes opened a fraction and gave him a pleading look.

Trunks sighed. She had asked him several times why he still slept on the couch. She had insisted that it was his bed, so he should sleep there instead of her. When he had refused, she had tried to compromise by saying the bed was large enough for the both of them. Still, he had refused her. But now, the look in her eyes told him that she didn't want to be alone and, considering the bombshell he had dropped on her earlier, it wouldn't be right to reject her right now.

He climbed over her body and lay down with his back against the wall. He pulled the blankets up as she rolled over towards him. She curled into his body, effortlessly fitting into the curves he made, and was asleep in moments. He kissed the top of her head softly, mentally shaking his head in exasperation at how smoothly she could get him to do what she wanted with one look.

She really was very precious to him.

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><p><strong>AN:** Aw, how adorable.

Next chapter will be a fun one. They finally get to Greydon and you know what that means...

Shopping! XD


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Danke sehr to** Viva la Amore**, **koolkat44**, **akatmandu**, **RaggedyAnneAnew**, and **Vynous **for your reviews/favorites/follows/love!

So many feels, guys. So many feels! I fangirl squeal every time I see a new email in my inbox from . I love you all. A lot.

Oh, this chapter is for **Vynous**, who read my mind and requested a spicier chapter. I may have given you a little more smut than what you asked for though, so be prepared. ;D

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><p>The following week passed by quickly. Avelyn had accompanied Trunks every morning to the training room. While Vegeta was skeptical of her at first, he at least kept his biting remarks to himself and only shot her scathing looks from time to time. Other than that, he left her in peace as she worked out. At first, she simply stretched and did basic routines, but her muscles soon craved for more. The crunches and pushups she remembered doing at home to keep in shape quickly felt too easy for her. It was strange, but she felt that she was much stronger than she knew.<p>

"You there, girl."

Avelyn's head snapped up when she heard the gruff voice address her. She sat back on her knees from where she had been doing one-armed pushups and wiped the sweat from her brow. She wasn't sure she had heard correctly at first, but when she saw Vegeta looking down at her from across the room, she knew she had not been wrong. She got to her feet and bowed her head to indicate that she had heard him.

"Come here, I wish to test your abilities."

Too confused and astonished to respond, Avelyn approached him. She stood where he indicated and looked across at Trunks, who mirrored her dazed look. Those were the first words Vegeta had spoken to her since she began her own quiet training in the corner of the room. Even the first day, when Trunks had explained her purpose for being there, he simply grunted and told his son that she had better stay out of the way. But now he wished to test her? Somehow, Avelyn felt it was not in her best interest to fail him.

"Trunks, you will attack her on my command."

"Father, you can't be serious!" the prince protested, taking a step towards the king.

"Of course I am serious, boy," Vegeta snarled. "Attack."

Trunks ignored the order and continued to stand where he was, frozen in place. Vegeta stood still as well and stared his son down. Neither noticed as Avelyn lowered herself into a fighting stance. Her body knew by some instinct that she could not remember learning to set her feet firmly apart and raise one slightly closed fist in front of her and one behind. She felt the confusion in her mind, but the sureness of her body overruled her doubts. She studied Trunks for a moment as he and his father were locked in their silent battle of wills. Her heart appreciated his hesitation and chivalry towards engaging her in a fight, but her pride cursed him for not allowing her the chance to prove herself to the king who had looked down on her for so many days.

She let out one short warning noise before she rushed forward and delivered a low kick to the back of his right knee, forcing him to bow in front of her. He grunted in surprise and looked up at her. She felt Vegeta's shocked expression burn into the back of her head just as Trunks's scorched her front. She grinned at him the way she grinned at night when she coaxed him into bed beside her. He responded in kind.

"Oh, aye," he smirked, "how clumsy of me."

He was on his feet in the blink of an eye. Avelyn jumped back and assumed her fighting stance again, watching as he did the same. Despite the smile on his face, she could still see remnants of hesitation in his eyes. She chuckled to herself and lurched forward, aiming a closed fist just below his left rib. He dodged it with a quick step in the opposite direction and countered with a blow of his own. It made contact with her forearm before it could connect to her cheek. She made an inelegant noise as she registered the pain shooting up her arm. She hadn't prepared for a punch with that much power behind it, but there was no time to think on that now. She knew she had to stay on the offensive if she hoped to at least keep up with the Saiyan prince.

"Ave, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean t—"

She cut him off with a right hook to the jaw as he let his guard down. His head reeled back and he stumbled backward. Off to the side, Avelyn heard Vegeta bark with laughter.

"There's that fire I saw," he chuckled.

Avelyn reflected on the statement as she kept a weary eye on Trunks, who was feeling the tender spot she had punched. It was true, she knew. Ever since she awoke on the ship, she had felt helpless. In turn, she had quit fighting. It was as though her fight had left her when her voice did. But now, as she fought against Trunks blow-for-blow, she felt a little like her old self again. She felt like the girl who spat fire and swallowed blades and strutted around on the stage as though she had all the confidence in the world.

She felt powerful.

"That's enough."

Trunks instantly disengaged from their skirmish and stepped back. Avelyn stopped her leg in midair and dropped it as she spun to face the king. He walked towards the pair with his arms crossed and a satisfied look on his face.

"Your fighting is rough, but it is solid," he remarked, regarding Avelyn with a new expression she had never seen before. "Where did you learn that style?"

She looked at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to do. She could not respond to him; she had left her notebook in the bedroom. And in all honesty, she wasn't sure her voice was the issue. She didn't know where she learned to fight. She recognized some of the stances she used as part of her show on Lorine, but the most of it was her body reacting on its own.

"Father, Avelyn hasn't regained her ability to speak," Trunks explained for her, taking a step closer as though he suddenly felt protective.

Vegeta was silent for a moment before nodding. "Ah, yes, I forgot your little pet was broken," he replied, not sounding as snide as his comment was. He sighed then. "Fine, you are dismissed. We will be docking on Greydon tomorrow, so there will be no training."

Trunks bowed his head and Avelyn let him lead her from the room. Once they were safely in the hallway, he looked over at her and grinned again.

"You almost kicked my ass in front of my own father," he remarked.

Avelyn rolled her eyes and gave his shoulder a playful shove. There was no way she would ever come close to defeating him in a real battle and he knew it. She smiled with delight when he came back to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist. She had been trying for days to get him to show her some affection and he was slowly coming around. It made her incredibly happy that the man she saw as her hero was growing as fond of her as she was of him.

They entered the room they had been sharing together for two weeks now and Avelyn wanted nothing more to take a nice hot shower. She headed straight for the bathroom but turned as she realized she forgot to grab a change of clothes. Her eyes whipped around the room, searching for the dresser she had been borrowing from when her gaze met Trunks's from where he sat on the couch.

Something inside of her pitched roughly to the side and she felt her breath leave her. A desire rocked her body and she suddenly felt unbearably hot despite the sweat that was drying on her cool skin. She knew she wasn't thinking clearly as she sauntered over to Trunks and pulled him to his feet. She also knew he was in the same state as her as he allowed himself to be led. Once he was through to bathroom doorway, it slid shut behind him and he abruptly became aware of himself again.

"Ave, what are you doing? We can't—"

She shut him up with a kiss. He knew exactly what she was doing. Her hunger drove her forward and the high she had felt from their fight earlier was filling her veins with adrenaline. She felt his heartbeat race under her palms as she raked her fingertips up his shirt and lifted it above his head.

"Avelyn, no," he protested weakly as the shirt dropped to the floor.

He tried to stop her from taking off her own shirt, but his hands dropped limply to her waist as she flung the baggy material behind her, leaving her in the sports bra his sister had let her borrow. She kissed him again and this time he kissed back. They both fought for control of the other's mouth with their tongues as their hands and fingernails tangled in hair and skin and whatever else they chanced across. Avelyn's foot slipped and they staggered back together. She managed to flip herself around so that Trunks was now walking backward. She fell into his lap as the back of his knees hit the toilet and he sat down on the closed lid.

Avelyn freed herself from him for only a moment to turn on the shower before he pulled her back. This time he explored the flesh of her neck and shoulders instead of her lips. She gripped his biceps as his mouth bit and sucked on every part of her it encountered. She felt his hands play with the elastic band of the bra and she helped him remove it. He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of her shaking, naked top before closing in on her right nipple with his mouth. She wanted to cry out, but could only grunt as a wave of pleasure swept over her. This was what she wanted; to be in the circle of her lover's arms as he caressed her body and made her feel needed and desired in such an intimate way. It was a different kind of high, separate from power but just as intense.

The feeling was two-sided and she needed him as much as she could feel he needed her. She rocked her hips against the bulge in his shorts, made all the more obvious by the stretchy spandex. She stood up suddenly and danced out of his reach, wiggling out of her remaining clothing as she did so. When he groaned and came after her, she hopped into the shower and closed the glass door behind her. She watched through the distorted glass as he dropped his shorts and followed. She back against the wall and gave him an impish grin. He lunged for her and caught her easily between his arms. The showerhead spewed hot water above his head and soon everything was slick as the pair slid together, eagerly investigating every part of the other.

Avelyn skimmed her hands down his abdomen, inwardly gasping with disbelief at how solid and etched his muscles were. She reached his penis and stroked it gently, taking pleasure in his sharp intake of breath. It seemed every part of him was solid.

"Ave…lyn…" he sighed, a part of him still trying to stubbornly stop what they were doing.

She attacked his lips again to quiet his defeated protest. He gave up and let her do as she pleased. He slid down the shower wall as his legs grew too weak to support him. She went with him, one hand squeezing his shoulder, the other still wrapped softly around his erect member. She positioned herself so that his swollen head was just barely touching her entrance. He hissed again and his hands were grabbing at her hips, telling her what he was too incoherent to say. She took a deep breath and dropped the rest of the way into his lap.

It was his turn to cry out as he pierced her, reaching deep inside her. She slumped forward and for a moment neither of them moved. The water continued to spray every surface of the shower, but Avelyn couldn't hear the droplets anymore. All she could register was her heavy breathing and Trunks's labored pants.

Then he started to move. Ever so slowly, he moved his hips under her, his movements hesitant and unsure. She encouraged him with a kiss, biting down on his lower lip when she wanted him to go faster. He instantly obliged and her fingernails dug into his flesh as the feeling of him filled and stretched her in the most comforting and satisfying way. Wanting more, she began bouncing in rhythm with his hip thrusts. Her nails, still biting into his skin, scratched up and down as she moved and she felt it give way under her fingertips. But he said nothing and she wouldn't have cared if he had, she was so lost.

Then, it was as if everything she had felt thus far was but a colorless, tasteless, lightless phantom of the ecstasy that was beginning to rock her body. It started as a flash of heat that started at the tips of her toes and burned its way up her flesh to a roiling blaze of feeling she had never experienced. She could tell Trunks was feeling the same as his body began to spasm against hers. She went slack again as a new heat filled the already bursting space between her legs and she new he had released. Trunks buried his face in her neck and she held him close.

"Avelyn… Ave," he mumbled, his words muffled by her waterlogged hair. "I think I might love you," he laughed shakily.

She pressed a smile into the top of his head, wishing she could speak her own feelings out loud.

"C-can I confess to something?" he asked suddenly, looking up at her.

She nodded.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

Another nod.

"That… was my first time," he cringed and looked down as though he expected her to be upset by the news.

Avelyn took his chin in both of her hands and tilted it upwards to look at her. She noticed the bruise growing on his chin and kissed it lightly, recognizing it as the aftermath of her blow earlier. She rested her forehead against his and gave him no option but to look her straight in the eye.

_I don't care_, was what she attempted to make her eyes say. _Why should that matter?_ She kissed his lips tenderly, the passion from earlier still there, but burning quietly behind all her other, softer emotions. He twisted slightly in her embrace and she realized that he was still inside her. She moved to climb off his lap and he stood up, pulling her with him and against his chest.

"I know," he whispered, as if he understood what she wanted to tell him. "I know…"

They stood like that under the water for awhile, neither moving nor saying a word. They simply enjoyed the peace that wrapped around them both after their orgasms and drank in the feeling of their flesh pressed together.

It was the first shower where Avelyn felt dirtier getting out of than when she had gone in.

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><p>Trunks looked down in the darkness of his room. He could just barely see her outline in the impossibly low light. The soft curves he had come to know well in the hours they had spent locked away in his room were hugged gently by the thin sheet that covered them both. He felt her heat curled against him and her hair fanned out along his chest as she rested her head over his heart. She had told him once that listening to its steady beat helped her sleep. That was the only reason he had allowed himself to be coaxed into his own bed every night to lay by her side—so he told himself.<p>

Some part of him—some part deep, deep down—wanted to scold and hate himself for what he had done, repeatedly, that day. He had swore to himself that he wouldn't have sex with a concubine for fear of subjecting any child that may be born to the life he had grown up with. He didn't wish the ridicule and hatred that followed being a Halfling Saiyan on anyone, least of all his own flesh and blood. And it would be worse for any child of his because their blood would contain less of their Saiyan heritage than his own.

But, he told himself, Avelyn was not just another concubine. She wasn't a concubine at all. She was a girl he had selfishly wanted to save in a moment of panic and confusion. She was a girl who was quickly becoming someone he wanted in every way imaginable.

He pulled his fingers lazily through her scarlet waves, relishing in their soft, smooth texture. It seemed every part of her was that way. Except her fist, he thought, remembering the sore spot on his chin. Despite the initial shock at being pitted against her and realizing how strong she was, he felt a glowing sort of pride as he recalled the look on his father's face. He actually seemed to approve of her.

He chuckled to himself. She certainly was something else.

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><p><strong>AN:** So, I may have lied a little. I said this chapter was going to be full of shopping, but that's actually going to be next chapter.

I hope no one was disappointed with what I wrote for this one. :3


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** **koolkat44**, **Guest**, **akatmandu**, **Vynous**, **Viva la Amore**, **Guest**, **Kamaria Jay, Sexy And I Know It 123321**; you guys are the absolute best! I'm so happy you're liking the story so far because I was really worried when first starting out that I was going to fail.

And this chapter would've been up sooner, but I created a monster… I taught my mom how to read manga online. She stole my computer and read all 51 posted chapters of Dengeki Daisy in just a few days! XD

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><p>Avelyn woke to a cold bed. Disappointed, she sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes only to find Trunks wolfing down his customary large breakfast. He was just about to drain a half-gallon of orange juice when he spotted her climbing out of bed.<p>

"Good morning," he greeted, the most energetic she had ever seen him in the morning. Usually she had to practically drag him to training. One glance at the clock told her why he was so chipper: It was nearly four hours past their usual wakeup time.

"The ship is docking," he explained as she quirked a quizzical eyebrow. "The energy we produce while training interferes with the ship's system, that's why father called it off yesterday."

She simply nodded and went to sit beside him on the couch. She was absolutely starving after yesterday's… activities and piled what was left after Trunks's feast onto her own plate. She tucked her legs underneath herself and balanced the plate on top of her thigh as she snuggled into Trunks's side. She enjoyed being close to him—even more so, she discovered, after last night.

"You're awfully affectionate," he laughed as he finished his meal and leaned back to throw a lazy arm over her shoulders. She smiled when he pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. She quickly finished her breakfast and waited until a servant came in and cleared the dishes away before she grabbed her notebook.

_Bra said she was going to take me shopping,_ she wrote.

Trunks read over her shoulder and gave an apologetic snort. Avelyn dug her elbow into his ribcage, making him jump with surprise.

_She's not all that bad._

"Because you didn't grow up with her," he replied, amusement still in his tone. "I could try to get you out of it, if you want."

_I __do__ need clothes of my own,_ she replied. _I can't keep wearing yours._

"Sure you can. You look good in them."

Avelyn just turned her head and rolled her eyes. She was tired of wearing his boxers and shirts. She itched for some clothing that fit her and didn't hang limply off her frame.

"Fine, but it's your funeral," he warned.

She was just about to write a reply when a blue-haired teenager shot through the door and into the room. Avelyn nearly dropped her pen in shock. Bra stopped short when she spotted the two on the sofa and stared for a moment.

"Oh! You two look so cute together!" she gushed, her eyes growing wide with excitement. "Look at that, sitting all cuddled on the couch!"

Trunks removed his arm from Avelyn's shoulders and sat forward. "What do you want, Bra?"

Silently, Avelyn pouted to his back, instantly missing his warmth.

"I wanted to know if you guys were ready yet," she replied, switching to serious. "And I see that you aren't."

"What do you mean?"

She gave an incredulous look. "You aren't seriously going to step onto the station looking like that, are you?" She gestured to his sweatpants and bare chest.

"I wasn't planning on stepping foot anywhere," he retorted.

"Are you kidding me? Who's going to carry the bags!"

"Get one of the servants to do it!"

Avelyn grinned as she listened to them fight. They definitely sounded like siblings. They reminded her of home. All the carneys were close, like their own strange family. She would often walk in on similar shouting matches and engage in a few of her own. But no one ever stayed mad for long, they all pitched together in the end to make the shows happen.

"Come on, Avelyn. I have to get you ready while _he _changes."

Avelyn shot Trunks a rueful look as Bra grabbed her hand and pulled her off the couch and out the door. He simply smirked in an "I told you so" way. Before the door could shut, she stuck her tongue out at him. Then she suffered through her arm being nearly wrenched from its socket as Bra tugged her onward. They didn't stop until they were at the teen's own room. Avelyn looked around herself with squinted eyes. It was so…_bright._ There were neon colors everywhere.

"Now, let's see…"

Avelyn was distracted as clothes started flying at her. Bra was digging through the various dressers and wardrobes in her room, flinging things aside after a quick inspection. It took all of Avelyn's concentration to dodge the airborne material. Bra soon emerged from her storm of clothes, brandishing a pair of black jeans and a tank top.

"The jeans should fit your waist, but they'll be too short. We can fix that by rolling the legs into shorts. The tank top will be a little tight, but I think you have the goods for it."

Avelyn flinched as the clothes were shoved into her hands. Bra pushed her into the direction of the bathroom and shut her in. Once alone, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked older, she noticed. Her cheekbones were more defined and her eyes were sharper. It made her wish more than ever that she could remember the time she had lost just to know what could make her grow up so fast.

Shaking such thoughts from her mind, she dressed in what Bra had given her. Once done, she stepped out of the bathroom and was confronted with the blue-haired girl's critical gaze. She rolled up the pant legs like she said she would and stepped back again to give Avelyn another once-over.

"Hm…" She rocketed past Avelyn and into the bathroom before reemerging with the button-up shirt she had been wearing. It had been a light purple color and reminded Avelyn of Trunks's hair, which is why she picked it. Now she was wearing it again and Bra had rolled the sleeves up to her elbows. Next, the girl took the ends and tied them just below her breasts. This, coupled with the too small tank top that refused to stretch at least as far as her bellybutton, left her midriff exposed.

"There," Bra announced proudly. "Now that your outfit is taken care of, let's do something about your hair and makeup."

An hour later found Avelyn was standing in what she assumed was the hull of the ship. She stood next to Bra, feeling taller than ever in the black heels the teen had forced her to wear. Her hair had been straightened and tamed and now hung limply down her back, its waves gone. Her eyes were rimmed with the black eyeliner she was accustomed to donning daily back home, but now a light layer of silver eyeshadow shimmered underneath it. Despite the torture she had gone through under Bra's rough touch, she had to admit that she looked good.

"Avelyn?"

Her sentiments were confirmed in the incredulous look Trunks was now giving her as he entered the room. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, drawing his attention to her face. They locked eyes and she smirked. His eyes told her that his mind was replaying last night. She slinked over to him, having no problems with the stilettos. She had worn similar shoes before and knew all the ways she could move that would attract the notice of any man—even shy, reserved Saiyan princes.

"You look… You look great," he stuttered.

Avelyn gave him a slow kiss as a reward for his compliment. He placed his hands on her hips and ran his thumbs over the exposed flesh of her stomach. She rolled her hips into his and wrapped her arms around his neck. If possible, he pressed her tighter to his body, leaving no gaps between them. Just before she was about to lose herself to his touch, a gruff cough sent Trunks reeling back from her. She glanced around in confusion, looking for the source of his alarm, when she spotted it: The king stood before them, his arms crossed and a look of annoyance on his face.

"Trunks, I need to discuss something with you," Vegeta said, gesturing with his head to a spot a few feet away.

"Of course, father," he replied breathlessly before following after Vegeta.

"Hehehe," Bra sniggered, suddenly at Avelyn's side again. "That was quite the show."

Avelyn felt the heat rise in her face.

"It seems you two have been getting along well," she went on. Avelyn didn't have her notebook to reply and, besides, she doubted Trunks's little sister wanted to hear about just _how much_ they were "getting along." "I don't see what daddy was worried about."

Before Avelyn could send Bra a questioning look, Trunks had returned from his discussion. "Are you guys ready?" he asked as the hull of the ship began to descend. Bra didn't waste any time answering; she simply hurried down the ramp and into the throng of people. Sighing in frustration, Trunks took after her. Avelyn had no choice but to follow behind when he grabbed her hand.

She stared open-mouthed at the scene around her. The station must have been massive. She couldn't see the end from where she was, even though it appeared to be one colossal corridor. It reminded her of the open-air markets back home. There were vendors lining the streets, shouting and boasting of their wares. But there were also shops lined against the walls. With her heels, she could just barely see over the majority of people crowding around her to spot Bra's blue head ducking into a boutique to her left. Trunks had seen her too and veered in her direction, nearly knocking over a thin man carrying an armful of boxes. Avelyn shot him an apologetic look, as Trunks was too preoccupied to notice.

"Bra, you can't just run off like that," he scolded as they entered the shop.

Again, Avelyn was at a loss for words. The red velvet wallpaper and carpet managed to soak up all the noise from outside and the ornate chandelier overhead bathed everything in a warm glow. There were a handful of mannequins dressed in elaborate gowns sprinkled about the small room, but nothing else save for a counter at the far end. This is where Bra was currently standing, ignoring her brother to speak to a short, bronze-skinned man.

"Oh good!" she exclaimed, finally turning to acknowledge the pair. "Avelyn! Get over here!"

The redhead shook her hand from Trunks's and approached the counter, feeling uneasy. She didn't like Bra's eager look. As she neared the man, his eyes widened and he looked over her figure slowly.

"_This_ is what I have to work with?" His voice sounded slightly nasally and a bit higher in pitch than what she was used to. "Bra, honey, why'd you bring her to me? You could dress her in a potato sack and she'd still be the envy of every woman in Shozin."

"Shozin," Trunks began, coming up from behind, "is the fashion capital of this side of the galaxy."

Avelyn smiled at him appreciatively for the explanation.

"Just work your magic, Ricky," Bra laughed. "She has nothing to wear for mother's galas."

"Of course, milady," the man, Ricky replied, giving a mock bow. "Anything specific?"

"Hm, no, just make her look like royalty."

Ricky grinned. "My pleasure." He walked over to a red door Avelyn hadn't noticed before and motioned her over. Feeling suddenly nervous, she grabbed onto Trunks's hand again and squeezed before following him.

"Oh, honey, I have to take your measurements. Boyfriend can wait out here."

She sent Trunks a pleading look. He reached into his pocket and dug out a small notepad with a pen stuck through the spiral and handed to her. It seemed he thought of everything. She took it from him gratefully and scribbled down a quick sentence before handing it to the man.

_It's nothing he hasn't seen before._

Ricky chuckled when he read her words. "If it'll make you more comfortable," he conceded, stepping aside to let them through.

Avelyn stepped into the room beyond the door and almost couldn't believe how much it differed. First of all, it was at least twice as large. It was also better lit. Rows of bright, artificial light on the high ceiling showed every fold and crease in the several rolls and piles of fabric littering the room. Ricky led them to the back where a large wooden table stood off from all the others.

"If you would strip down to your underwear," he began, digging through the stuff piled onto the table, "it will help my measurements be more accurate."

"I don't think that—"

Avelyn cut Trunks off with a look. She had been to fittings before for her costumes on Lorine. Her designer had always been a woman, so she had never really thought anything of standing nearly naked while a tape measure was wrapped around every inch of flesh. She had thought, standing in the other room, that having a man take her measurements would make her uneasy. But, as she peeled off her tank top, she didn't feel particularly shy. She wasn't sure if it was Trunks's presence or Ricky's unthreatening demeanor, but it felt like she was back home doing her monthly costume routine.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Ricky tutted, now brandishing a measuring tape. "So many possibilities: Where to start?"

He started with her arms, having her hold them straight out as he wrapped the tape around various sections and then wrote the resulting number on a clipboard.

"So, how long have you been with the royal family?" he asked, sounding slightly distracted as he continued to take measurements. Avelyn glanced at Trunks, who was leaning against the table holding her clothes.

"Um, she can't speak," he answered for her.

Ricky shot him a look from under his lashes and frowned before going back to measuring. "Oh well, I suppose that can't be helped," he shrugged. "Nod for yes, shake your head for no: Is the sex good?"

Trunks spluttered and Avelyn couldn't help the silent bark of laughter at his reaction. Ricky, however, went unfazed and continued to look at her, waiting for her answer. She glanced to Trunks and saw how intently he was watching her as well, his face colored an adorable shade of pink. She finally gave a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders and bounced her outstretched hand from side to side, the universal sign for "so-so." At her answer, Trunks snorted derisively and covered it up with a cough. Avelyn winked and him and blew a kiss in his direction.

Ricky, who had been watching the entire exchange, sniggered. "And how long have you been in love?" At the silence that greeted his latest question, he went on. "You don't see it? Because it's fairly obvious to the rest of the world. I mean, the big, strong, shy hunk and the Amazonian, fiery redhead? Ugh, it's a love story all right."

Avelyn pondered his words. She had never really thought about what love meant to her. She supposed it was what happened when two people cared for each other a lot, but other than that… So, could what she felt for Trunks really be called love? She had known him for only a few weeks, an excruciatingly short time to fall in love with anybody. But, she supposed, he had become her entire world in that time. He was her savior and he closest, only friend. He had shown her kindness and treated her delicately, completely different from how she had always heard Saiyans were. And there was no denying the physical attraction between them.

So, was Phoenix Valiant, the fierce fire breather and sword swallower from Lorine, in love? No, she decided, but Avelyn, the voiceless and memory-deprived girl hurtling through space, just might be. The question kept her thinking throughout the rest of the measuring,

Ricky finished with her in just under an hour and the trio stood outside his boutique after Bra made him promise to ship each dress out as soon as he finished it. Trunks gave Avelyn a departing peck on the lips. He had explained that his father had asked a favor of him while he was on the station, though he was vague on details. She watched him disappear into the crowd and smiled longingly after him. He was such a sweet boy.

"I have to go too," Bra announced, "but you'll be fine on your own, right?"

The girl shoved a small sack of gold coins into Avelyn's hands and beamed at her before she too entered the flow of bodies. Avelyn stared at the spot Bra had been standing in seconds ago, puzzled. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, recalling when she had been sixteen. Those were strange times in any teenage girl's life.

Avelyn glanced around, trying to decide what she was going to do, when something caught her eye. It seemed the station wasn't just one huge corridor as she initially thought it was. She watched as person after person filtered into an opening in the storefronts. She headed in that direction, her curiosity getting the better of her.

She discovered a small alleyway between the buildings. It was deprived of the large fluorescent lighting of the main road and appeared to be a bit off the beaten path. In fact, it reminded her a lot of the alleyways on Lorine and she was instantly on guard, all the while cursing Bra for leaving so much of her skin exposed. She ducked into the most unthreatening doorway she spotted. Instantly, the scent of age and dust filled her nostrils.

"Welcome, dear child!"

Avelyn looked up at the wizened man who was approaching her. He definitely fit in with the room she now found herself in. There were odd things and old knickknacks piled haphazardly about, everything layered in a fine film of dust. It was some sort of antique shop, she realized.

"Let me know if there's anything I can help you with," he continued.

She smiled and waved his offer away before turning to examine the items on the shelf to her left. Her eyes roved over an assortment of random junk. There was everything from moldy, moth-eaten books to cracked and broken porcelain dolls. She even spotted a ripped, weather-damaged posted of a famous boy band from Lorine. It made her want to laugh, the fact that pop culture from her own world reached as far as some shopping complex floating in the middle of space.

Something glinted from the light of the single dimming light bulb in the shop as she turned her head to get a better look at the poster. She reached the end of the shelf and uncovered the shiny object. It was the hilt of a sword. It was plain enough; a simple metal handle wrapped in dark brown leather. Its sheath was a deep orange and equally as simple. She picked it up and drew the blade out slowly. It was a little rusty, but nothing a good polishing couldn't fix.

"Ah, that piece came by me quite a few years ago," the old man said as he looked over her shoulder. "Some fellow raving about a monster and a man with an orange Mohawk dropped it off. Seems he thought it was cursed."

Avelyn tested the sword's weight. It was much too heavy for her to consider it as a prop for a show, but that wasn't what she had thought when she had first picked it up. For some reason, she imaging Trunks wielding it, how it would move in his hands as he slashed and jabbed and parried. She thought it would suit him perfectly.

"Don't know if I'd be willing to part with it, though…"

She slid the blade back into its sheath and took the bag of coins from her pocket. She handed it to the man and watched as he untied the top and the gold spilled into his hand. He gaped at her and she gave him a pointed look.

"How would you like that wrapped?"

Avelyn hefted the long cardboard box containing her purchase under her arm as she excited the shop. She tried to get her bearings straight in the dimly-lit alley. Deciding to go right, she walked determinedly down the path. There was a bounce to her step as she thought about how happy Trunks would be when she gave him his gift. Of course, she'd clean it up first and wait for the perfect time to give it to him, but she was sure he'd be pleased to receive it.

So lost was she in imagining all the scenarios that she didn't notice the group of men coming her way. There was no room in between the walls to get over and she ran into the foremost man, hitting him squarely in the chest. She fell back from the force of the impact and hit her bottom. She heard her package land somewhere behind her.

"Ay, watch where you're going, bitch."

Avelyn looked up into the gruesome face of the man who towered over her. A jagged scar ran the length of his exposed chest. His mouth was twisted into a grisly smile and many of his teeth overlapped or simply didn't exist. The men crowded behind him didn't look much friendlier. She gulped.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing alone?"

"Just look at them legs."

"Them legs! Look at that rack!"

She cringed at the jeers and shouts being directed at her and tried to inch back slowly. The guy in the lead stopped her retreat by placing one large foot over her own, easily snapping the heel.

"Well? What _are_ you doing all alone, doll?"

Avelyn just shook her head and pressed herself against the wall to her right, wanting nothing more than to melt into it. She'd try for the sword to defend herself, but she doubt it'd do much in such a tight space. It's not like she had much of a chance against these men anyway, seeing as how large and many of them there were.

"Cat got your tongue?"

She cringed when he knelt down in front of her and took her face in his hand, forcing her to look at him. She could smell the alcohol wafting off his breath. It made her want to gag. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what to do. She was alone in a dark alley. If this was anything like the ones she knew at home, as she suspected it was, no amount of noise she could make would have anyone running to her aid. If anything, they'd shut their doors and windows and have the decency to let her suffer in private.

"I'd love to hear you squeal."

She shut her eyes tight, trying to block the image of his face from her mind. Instead, she thought of Trunks and how much she wished he was by her side. She imagined his arm wrapped around her waist and his comforting warmth flowing into her veins. She craved his low, soothing voice whispering to her all the promises in the world as he was in the throws of ecstasy. She wanted, above anything else, to be with him in the bed they had shared, safe and sound and content.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The man's hand was gone from her chin and she looked up in surprise, only to regret it. She squinted against the yellow light blazing in front of her. She had recognized the voice, though it wasn't the soft murmur she imagined; it was rough and more furious than she had ever heard it. And she recognized those shoulders and that strong back, but she had never seen them glowing with power. There was no suspicion as to who stood before her, holding off the horde of hostile men.

It seemed wishes did some true after all.

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><p><strong>AN:** I didn't intend to leave off with that little cliffhanger, but I have to. This chapter is a little over seven pages in Word. I was worried it was getting too long.

Anywho, I think this little Trunks/Ave couple is getting too comfortable too soon, don't you? And it's getting pretty annoying not being able to write any dialogue for Ave. Instead she's this frightened, poor little thing because all she ever had was her bark and no bite.

And I am lying too many of my cards out on the table. X3

This chapter was all in Ave's limited omniscient P.O.V. Did you like it? Which character do you like reading? Let me know so I know how to write. After all, this story is as much for you as it is for me. I want to know what you like.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Mirrorsdeath17**, **Apollo's Twin and Goku's Child**, **Vynous**,** koolkat44, Sidthe, angelvoice15, Gracey Lily: **Thank you, thank you, thank you! Your feedback was great, those of you who reviewed. I really appreciated it.

Remember guys, this _is_ a fan fiction, which means it's for the fans. If you make a request, I will try my best to make it happen. It's your story too. :)

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><p>"What are you saying 'I need more time,' huh?"<p>

Trunks slammed the man he was addressing into the wall behind him. He was too astonished to struggle and looked at the Saiyan prince with wide, nervous eyes. Trunks felt his lip curl in disgust. This man was a fourth-class Saiyan, the lowest of the low. His purpose was solely to gather information dug up on the streets, as he was too weak for what the Saiyan armies demanded of their soldiers. He spent his time instead in back alleyways and lurked behind the sleaziest hovels on Greydon Station, soaking up all the rumors whispered in the night. He was a conniving, silver-tongued piece of trash.

"Please, milord, I implore you to give me but a few more hours and I will have the knowledge you seek!" He struggled to speak through the fingers wrapped around his throat. Angered by his answer, Trunks tightened his grip and the rumor monger clawed at his hand.

"My father specifically instructed you to gather what he asked and report to him as soon as the royal ship landed. He has been more than generous by allowing you an hour more, don't you agree?"

"Ce-Certainly, my prince," the man squeaked.

He was beginning to turn a nasty shade of red, so Trunks released his hold. He stood over the man as he crumpled to the floor, clutching his throat as he took shuddering gulps of air. Trunks decided to give the man a moment to catch his breath and let his eyes roll over the dark, smoke-filled bar he was currently standing in the back of. How he tired of these dank places he found himself in regularly. Usually, however, he visited those places only on planet Vegeta. It was rare when his father asked him to go on these errands outside of his home.

He had a reputation amongst the Saiyan underground for being as ruthless as his father for these _errands_. It was always the same: Make contact, use whatever force necessary, and get results. It took awhile for the filth of the empire to respect him as a fierce prince and not laugh in his face as a Halfling heir, but he eventually got through to them. He now had an entire network of fourth-class Saiyans under his thumb, gathering whatever information he or his father had need of.

Another thought flitted across Trunks's mind. A flash of red, a smear of green, and a brilliant smile almost had him reeling. What would she think if she saw this side of him? He could still see the fear in her eyes as she passed the Saiyan guards in the halls of the ship, the way she flinched when one of them simply shifted from one foot to the other. She was still terrified of the universe's most feared race, though she had never admitted it to him. He admired her for her strength, for the way she held her head high and kept going despite all the inner turmoil he knew she had.

She had told him once that she knew the memories she had lost were probably terrible, but she wanted them anyway. At the time, Trunks had simply whispered some soothing words and put her mind at ease, but he had been the opposite of calm. Even now, he felt his blood begin to heat up at the thought. Gohan was in those memories, the guard she had obviously been close to. If she wanted to remember him so much, that meant he, Trunks, was not enough for her. He wasn't who she really wanted. After going his entire lifetime not being enough of a Saiyan for his own people, he was now not enough of a man for his own concubine. It was an infuriating thought.

"Now, are you ready to tell me what you know?" Trunks kicked the man just below his ribcage, making him grunt and flinch in pain.

"Cooler's men," he spat. "They were seen on the east end of the station last night."

Trunks grabbed a fistful of the man's hair and forced his head up. "Is that all you know?" His tone was dangerous, letting the weaker Saiyan know what a mistake it would be to lie.

"N-no, there's more. The men, they're a group of Cooler's elite forces. I overheard them talking about a blitz on the royal ship this evening."

The prince slammed the man's head into the stone floor, easily breaking his nose and possibly a cheekbone. "And you were withholding this information the entire time!?"

"My apologies, milord," he garbled through a mouthful of blood.

Trunks raised his hand to strike the man again, but paused suddenly. A red flag shot up in his mind. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, calming his ki so he could sense those around him. There, just off the main road of the station, Avelyn's energy spiked erratically. She was afraid. He sensed a group of other ki's, all blazing brightly against his senses. His eyelids split open in surprise. These other energies, they had to be the elites the man was talking about. No other people on this ship besides his father and himself had that kind of power.

Without a parting look to the rumor monger, Trunks rose into the air and broke through the rotten wood of the bar's ceiling before shooting off in the direction of Avelyn's energy. He raced over the tops of the buildings, his back skimming the steel ceiling of the station. He spotted her bright red hair nestled between two buildings, as he had sensed. She was on the ground, uselessly trying to back up as a large man advanced on her. Trunks was still worked up from his interrogation and it took no time at all for his ki to burst and he powered up. He felt the energy crackle through him, from the tips of his toes to his now-glowing, blond split ends. He was standing in front of Avelyn in the blink of an eye, facing her attackers.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned as he pushed the man away from Avelyn.

"Ch, what d'you want, kid?"

Trunks simply turned his back to face Avelyn instead. She looked up at him with her large green eyes and the image of the rumor monger popped into his head. How similar they looked, how helpless… He shook the thought away and knelt down to make sure she was all right.

"Are you hurt?"

She hesitated a moment and simply stared at him. She had never seen his Super Saiyan form before he realized. She grimaced and he followed her gaze to Bra's broken shoe. He chuckled, partly from her concern over the heel and partly out of relief that that was all that was wrong with her.

"She has more, she won't miss it," he assured. She gave him a weak smile that weighed on his heart like a lead weight. That smile would never fully belong to him, not as long as she wanted to regain her memories or if she managed to recover them. She would remember all the terrible things the Saiyans had done to her, remember Gohan and how he died. She would hate Trunks for that. How could she not?

"Hey, what do you think you're doing, ignoring me?"

Trunks spun on his heel and blocked the man's fist with his palm. He could smell the alcohol coming off of his attacker, and yet the man seemed to be in complete control of his body. Trunks released the fist and made a swift jab to the stomach, managing to hit only air as the man hopped to the left. A smirk lifted the corner of Trunks's mouth. This was definitely an elite.

"You dare challenge the mighty Jabre?"

The prince took a moment to size this 'mighty' Jabre up. He was a tall man, at least three feet taller than Trunks himself. He was also bulky with twitching muscle that pulled his canary yellow skin tight over his body. Messy white hair hung loosely to his uncovered thighs. He wore only a chest plate and spandex shorts that barely covered his behind. He looked like an overgrown peacock strutting his brightly-colored plumage. Trunks would have never passed this man in the station and thought he would be one of Cooler's elite soldiers. But the fact that he managed to evade a hit from a super Saiyan was a testament to his amazing speed, if nothing else.

"You gonna stand there admiring me all day, Blondie? Or are we gonna get this fight started? I got places to be, people to maim. You know how it is." Jabre flicked his hair and gave a brilliant smile.

"Tell me," Trunks began, taking a quick glance at the group of men standing on the other side of the alley. "Just how many of you mongrels are there on this station?"

"Why the interest? You lookin' for some fun, Blondie?"

Trunks jumped forward and aimed for Jabre's stomach again, this time landing a hit. The larger man doubled over and coughed violently.

"Something like that," Trunks agreed smugly.

"Why you little—"

Jabre didn't get the chance to finish his insult as an explosion rocked the station. Trunks's head jerked in the direction the blast came from. _The docks._ The attack must be happening. Jabre's slow, satisfied laugh only confirmed his sickening realization. Another blast almost had him reeling as he ducked and dodged loose bricks falling from the surrounding buildings. Trunks narrowly avoided a rather large chunk of building when he froze.

_Avelyn._

He whipped around and caught sight of her in the dim lighting. She was struggling to push a slab of concrete from her legs. He rushed to her and threw the slab off easily. It flew back and knocked several of the men flat on their backs. Trunks didn't care; he was focused on Avelyn, whose eyes were filled with terror. He lifted her carefully and cradled her against his chest. He was about to rise in the air when she began squirming, causing him to nearly drop her. She was reaching for a beaten up cardboard box lying on the ground. He sighed and kneeled so she could pick it up. She grasped it in her arms tightly and he took off.

He wasn't going to be allowed to go uncontested, however. Jabre was on his heels, shooting erratic energy blasts as he went. Trunks did his best to dodge the blasts, but it was difficult with Avelyn in his arms. It didn't help that she was focused on clinging to that stupid box instead of clinging to him. He gritted his teeth in frustration and expended more energy to double his speed. He soon left Jabre cursing and swearing somewhere in the shopping district behind and arrived at the docks.

It was chaos, absolute chaos. Swarms of Cooler's soldiers, identifiable by the ice crystal insignia on their armor, were engaged in battle with Saiyan soldiers, who were being overtaken easily. Trunks assessed the situation quickly and then shot into the royal ship, which was yet untouched by the battle. He hastily set Avelyn on her feet just inside the door and looked her in the eyes.

"Ave, go back to the room and stay there until I come for you."

Her expression changed from one of fear to worry. She shook her head and clutched his arm. He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her firm.

"Avelyn, please," he pleaded. "I swear, I'll come back to you."

She took a deep breath, kissed his lips lightly, then turned and raced deeper into the ship, gripping her mysterious box the entire time. He watched her go until he couldn't see her anymore and, taking a page from her book, swiftly turned to enter the battle. He scanned the battlefield quickly and amongst the fleeing station patrons and soldiers engaged in combat, he couldn't see his father anywhere. He could, however, sense the king's energy somewhere in the middle of the field, the thickest part of it all. Trunks could also sense that Vegeta was handling himself well. Content that his father didn't need his help, he dove headlong into the fighting himself.

Trunks had managed to dispatch several enemy soldiers and was going to land the finishing blow on yet another until a bright crimson energy blast flashed before his face and crashed into the ground at his feet, knocking him back several yards. He looked up into the sky to see where the blast had come from and let out a comical grunt. He rose to his feet and dusted himself off before climbing into the air to meet Jabre.

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><p>Avelyn was panting heavily as she pounded the code into Trunks's room, praying that the door opened quickly. When it did, she rushed inside and took three giant leaps to the window on the opposite side of the room. She looked out and instantly the sights of battle flooded her vision. Just as she thought, his room was on the outer side of the ship. She looked over the fighting, trying to catch a glimpse of his glowing form. Finally, she caught sight of him rising into the sky. She followed where his head was turned to and the breath caught in her throat. She clutched the box that contained the sword tightly to her chest.<p>

She watched as Trunks and Jabre exchanged a few words. Then, without warning, the two engaged each other. Their fight was fast and heated. Avelyn could barely follow their movements as they flashed from place to place. She couldn't even tell who had the upper hand because she couldn't see the hits that were being landed at supersonic speeds. She could only look on with a stomach-turning apprehension as she waited for a winner to be decided.

Suddenly, the fighters paused. Trunks's back was to Avelyn and he had a hand on Jabre's chest. A brilliant flash filled the artificial sky and Jabre was rocketing backwards, crashing through buildings as he went. Trunks stood there and watched him plummet. He wasn't paying attention to anyone but Jabre, which is why he didn't see the soldier who had snuck up behind him. Avelyn beat her hands on the window in desperation, cutting her hand on the glass as it shattered against her fists. The soldier had a strange looking gun in his hands and was raising it, finger on the trigger. Avelyn's entire being was screaming with all its might. Her mouth was open in a silent shout. He was going to die. He was going to die and she was helpless to do anything about it. It was her fault.

She saw the tip of the gun glow red hot as it powered up. The soldier had a smug smirk on his face. Avelyn continued to pound on the sides of the window, further splitting open her wounds. This wasn't fair. He couldn't die. He _couldn't._ It wasn't fair!

"**Gohan!**"

She saw him turn suddenly, surprise etched into his features, but it was too late. The blast from the gun hit him square in the stomach. He flew back a few feet and then dropped straight down. The golden aura that had surrounded him faded as he fell. His hair returned to its usual violet color and whipped around his face. He was completely limp, unresponsive. Like Jabre before him, Trunks crashed into the floor of the station with a sickening bang. A dust cloud billowed up around the small crater his body had formed in the ground and Avelyn turned from the scene. She slid down the wall and gaped, mouth open in horror, at the floor. She clutched at her face with her hands, digging her fingers into her temple. Blood trickled down her forearm and tears trickled down her cheeks.

She tried to register what had just happened, but her mind could only repeat three thoughts over and over without truly understanding the implications of them. One, she had just screamed out loud. Two, Trunks had just been killed in front of her vary eyes. And three, the last thing he had heard before he died was her shouting out the name of another man—one she didn't recognize a couldn't, try as she might.

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><p><strong>AN:** Oh gee, what an update. I know it took forever, so I tried to make it worth your while.

And hey, here's some interesting news: I've been talking to the original author of this story about maybe taking over another one of her stories. It's one she had on another account, her official account that she made after losing her login information for the other one. It's a DBZ fic featuring Trunks of course. It's called Merging Worlds. Maybe you've heard of it?

But yeah, she's thinking it over and if she agrees, I'll have another story to write! I'm excited.


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